I/
I •'.
THE REVOCATION
EDICT OF NANTES,
AND ITS CONSSgttE'NQES
TO T.HE. • . • '. §>, '
Protestant <£twrc!)e8 of France anto Xtalg;
CONTAINING
MEMOIRS
OF SOME OF THE
SUFFERERS IN THE PERSECUTION
ATTENDING THAT EVENT.
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION.
WILLIAM S. MARTIEN, PUBLISHING AGENT.
1839.
?*
CONTENTS.
Page
Introduction 5
M. Chandion, the repentant Convert 13
M. de Chevenix, the persecuted Invalid 17
M. D'Algue, and the Assemblies of the Faithful in
the Mountains of Cevennes 23
M. Fulcrand Rei, the devoted Pastor 35
Jean Migault, the Reader of Moulle 50
M. Le Fevre, the Prisoner of the Galleys 117
M. de Marolles, the Exile arrested in his Flight ... 139
The Martyrs of Toulouse 168
The Church in the Wilderness ; or, the Waldenses
of the Piemont Valleys 180
Appendix 202
INTRODUCTION.
FROM an early period of the Reformation, the
Protestants of France, although embracing many
of the nobility, were assailed by the most relent-
less persecutions. The church of Rome has ever
been the enemy of light, and has never hesitated,
where it possessed the power, to employ force and
violence to prevent its diffusion. The Reformed
Church in France was particularly exposed to the
malignant persecutions of a corrupt government,
instigated by the sanguinary suggestions of the
Roman Pontiffs and troops of Jesuits. An exemp-
tion from these troubles, was secured by the cele-
brated Edict drawn up at Nantes, by which Henry
IV. guaranteed to his Protestant subjects, the pos-
session of religious liberty and the secure enjoy-
ment of civil rights and privileges. This delivered
them from all further molestation during the period
of that monarch's reign.
At a subsequent period, however, the persecu-
ting spirit of the Church of Rome, which had been
temporarily held in check, again burst forth with
additional violence. Stratagem having failed to
induce the Protestants to put themselves under the
1*
6 INTRODUCTION.
Papal yoke, every measure, which malice and
cruelty could suggest, was resorted to for their ex-
tirpation. Lewis the XIV., prevailed on by the
importunities of the Bishops and Jesuits, in disre-
gard of all laws human and divine, revoked the
Edict of Nantes, by which act the Protestants
were deprived of the liberty of worshipping God,
agreeably to the dictates of their consciences, and
were exposed without shelter to the sanguinary
assaults of their enemies. The Roman pontiff
applauded the measure which was to bring ruin
upon so many thousands. An attempt being made
to force the consciences of the Protestants, they
emigrated in vast numbers to other parts of Europe,
in which they might enjoy the sacred privileges
which had been denied them in their own coun-
try. This proved highly detrimental to the real
prosperity of France, as it deprived it of many of
its most useful citizens. Where flight was impos-
sible the unhappy Protestants were subjected to
the most cruel and murderous persecutions.
Living, as we do, in peace and security, so far
removed from times when the fury of religious
persecution desolated the land, we can scarcely
imagine the distress and alarm of the Protestants,
when this unrighteous decree was passed. Not
only was the exercise of their religion, in public
and in private, forbidden, but they were interdict-
ed from following any trade or profession, by
INTRODUCTION. 7
which they might procure the means of living for
themselves and their families, and from holding
any office whatever, which might give them
weight and influence in society. It was soon
found that flight to a foreign land was the only
earthly refuge for the sufferers. But here, again,
difficulties beset them wherever they turned. By
a most perverse cruelty, while they were deprived
of the means of living in their own country, they
were not permitted to seek an alleviation of their
misery, by retiring to a foreign land. The greatest
advantage the most fortunate could hope to obtain,
was the mournful privilege of becoming fugitives
and exiles.
Though multitudes were unable to succeed in
removing themselves and their families from their
native country, many overcame every obstacle.
Various parts of the continent were open to them,
and England and America offered them a shelter
from the fury of the oppressor. Half a million of
the most virtuous and industrious subjects of the
king of France withdrew to other countries, which
they enriched by the arts and manufactures they
carried with them.
Of the miseries occasioned by the proceedings
against the members of the reformed church, we
can form very little idea from a cursory view of
the subject. All the ministers were commanded
to leave the kingdom within fifteen days after the
8 INTRODUCTION.
publication of the decree, unless they would abjure
their religion, and conform to the Roman Catholic
mode of worship.
With regard to the children of the reformed, all
private schools for their instruction were to be
suppressed; and it was commanded, that those
who should hereafter be born, should be baptized
by the cures of the parishes in which their parents
resided, and should afterward be educated in the
Roman Catholic faith.
To such Protestants as were out of the king-
dom at the time the decree was passed, the king
allowed a delay of four months, to give them time
to return and resume possession of their property.
If they did not return within that time, the whole
was to be confiscated. At the same time, it was
forbidden to any of the reformed to leave the coun-
try, except the ministers, with their wives, and
such of their children as were under seven years
of age.
The situation of these ministers was most dis-
tressing. Unless they abjured their faith, they
had to choose between exile or the galleys. If
they resolved to leave the country, they must
separate themselves from all who were dearest to
them, except their wives, and children of the spe-
cified age. All above this age, together with
friends, relatives, and servants, were forbidden to
be included in their passports. Even when they
INTRODUCTION. 9
arrived at the coast with the scanty train permit-
ted, they were often obliged to submit to further
delays, while their oppressors demanded proof
that the persons they brought with them were
really their wives and their children, and that the
children were really under the age of seven. Far
from all who knew them, it was often impossible
to bring the proof required ; and, in default of it,
many were arrested and committed to prison.
Some found it impossible, with their utmost efforts,
to arrange their affairs, and reach the coast in fif-
teen days, and these were seized and imprisoned,
on the ground of having exceeded the time allow-
ed for their departure.
They were often required to establish their right
to every species of property they carried with
them, whether books, money, or other things, and
to prove that they did not belong in any way to
the churches they had served, as every thing of
this sort reverted to the crown. Thus, not only
was the time consumed by vexatious delays, but
the little they had been able to save from the
wreck of their property, was often wrested from
them under false pretences ; and they were left to
proceed, with their wives and their little ones, to
a foreign land, with all the miseries of penury
added to their other distresses.
There were multitudes who found it impossible
to secure any thing. In the distracted state of the
10 INTRODUCTION.
country, it was, in many instances, perfectly use-
less to attempt to collect debts, or to convert houses
or land into money in the few days allowed them
to prepare for flight ; and this was the only time
in which they could do it, as, after that period,
whatever property remained, was seized by the
commissioners and confiscated without mercy.
This cruel injustice, with regard to property,
had been experienced by others besides the minis-
ters, even before the Edict of Revocation was pub-
lished. Previous to that final step, the severe
measures adopted by the government had excited
so much alarm, that many were induced to leave
the country. Brevets were obtained from the
king, granting them permission to retire to foreign
countries with their families, and to dispose of
their property in any way they might think best.
On the faith of these brevets they acted, leaving
estates, &c. in the hands of others, and expecting
to have rents and the proceeds of whatever they
ordered to be sold, sent out to them. But a great
proportion of these shared the same fate as the
exiled pastors, and all they had left in France was
lost. Other decrees, still more oppressive than
the Edict of Revocation, followed, and continued
in force for more than half a century.
That which above all affected the sincere and
pious among the ministers, and at first decided
them to remain in France at every risk, was the
INTRODUCTION. 11
consideration, that if they went into exile, they
would be as shepherds abandoning their flocks to
the wolf, at the very moment when their assistance
was most peculiarly necessary to them. They
said within themselves, "Jesus Christ, the good
Shepherd of his people, will one day expect at our
hand, an account of the flocks confided to our care.
How shall we appear before him, to render up our
accounts with joy, if we desert them in the hour of
neejj?" They determined to remain, and by every
possible means seek to console and strengthen
their persecuted people ; pouring the wine and oil
of heavenly comfort into the wounded hearts of the
sufferers, strengthening the weak, confirming the
feeble, and striving to build up all in the most holy
faith, which the adversaries were attempting by
every means to undermine. The fierce storm of
persecution was abroad in the land, and the Ro-
mish church was set forth as the only covert from
the tempest. Prosperity was to be the lot of those
who entered her portals ; adversity, severe and
pitiless, was decreed to those who refused her of-
fers. Too many felt themselves unable to remain
firm in this day of trial, not having sought, with
sufficient ardour, the aid of him who " giveth to
all men liberally, and upbraideth not;" and who
suffereth no temptation to befall his children, " but
will also, with the temptation, make a way for
them to escape." Yet there was a blessed num-
12 INTRODUCTION.
her, strong in faith, who walked manfully on in the
path allotted to them. Multitudes bore testimony
to the truth of their religion, resisting unto death
every attempt to turn them aside from the true faith.
Many were the martyred saints who expired du-
ring this period on the scaffold and at the stake,
and many more in hidden dungeons, where the
wrath of man worketh in secret, that which no
earthly eye may behold, but which He who seeth
from his throne in heaven, and from whom no
secrets are hid, will one day reveal to an assem-
bled world. In that day, how shall the persecu-
tors tremble! and oh! how many unrecorded vic-
tims of their fury shall then be seen, " clothed in
white robes, and having palms in their hands,"
ascribing honour and praise unto Him who hath
brought them through great tribulations to their
glorious place of rest! Even among those who had
fallen into the snares of their oppressors, and had
been prevailed on to sign a paper, by which they
abjured their religion, great numbers afterwards
sincerely and bitterly repented their conduct, and
sought the earliest opportunity to confess their fault
to their brethren. Many had the courage to de-
clare openly to their enemies that they had signed
against their consciences, that they repented it as
a crime, and that they were resolved to live and
die in their first faith.
13
M. CHANDION.
THE REPENTANT CONVERT.
AMONG the penitents was M. Chandion, or
Changuinon, an elder of the church of Vassi
de Champagne for thirty years. This vene-
rable old man, repenting of his sinful compli-
ance, resolved to join the party of the exiles;
and with that intention, set out with his son,
with M. Chemet, his brother-in-law, and se-
veral others, to quit the kingdom. After pro-
ceeding some time in safety, they were at
length overtaken and arrested. The younger
Chandion eluded the vigilance of his guards,
and escaped. The father was conducted to
the prison of Sedan, and underwent the usual
examination. When interrogated as to the
design of the journey in which he had been
overtaken, he replied courageously, that it
was to go into a Protestant country, if God
had permitted it, to weep there, in the midst
14 M. CHANDION,
of his brethren, over the great fault of which
he had been pulley f in signing the abjuration
of his faith; adding, that he would declare
before Cod and men, that he had given his
signature against his conscience, that he now
retracted it, and was ready to suffer all which
the law could inflict on him.
The second day of his imprisonment, he
was conducted to another place of confine-
ment, where he found M. Chemet with the
rest of the unfortunate party. They were all
tried a few days after, and the men were con-
demned to the gallies for life; the women and
children to be shut up in convents. From
Sedan they were transferred to Metz, where
they were to join the chain of condemned crim-
inals, and pass on with them to their destin-
ed place of punishment. Thus, in addition to
the severe judgment passed upon them, they
had to endure the society of the most deprav-
ed and abandoned persons, who were receiv-
ing, as the due reward of iniquity, the same
punishment as these pious and inoffensive men.
When the chain of the condemned was
drawn out for examination, and these two ex-
cellent old men were brought forward to be
THE REPENTANT CONVERT. 15
attached to it, the Procurer General, who was
present, touched with compassion at their
situation, called for pen and paper, that he
might write immediately to Louvois, the pow-
erful minister of Louis XIV., protesting that
they were not in a state to serve in the gal-
lies. It is not known what reply came from
the court, but its import may be guessed, since
they had the cruelty to compel M. Chandion
and M. Chemet to set out for Marseilles, at-
tached to the chain, with fifty others, of whom
sixteen were, like themselves, condemned for
their religion. God strengthened their aged
limbs to bear their chains to Marseilles; but
scarcely were they arrived, when, exhausted
with fatigue, they were seized with mortal
sickness, and in a few days breathed their last.
Thus were these venerable men enabled to
bear testimony to the truth as it is in Jesus,
and then permitted to escape from the stormy
wind and the tempest. While " the blast of
the terrible ones" still raged around their
brethren, they entered at once into the peace-
ful haven, " wherein goeth no galley with
oars, neither doth gallant ships pass thereby."
There " the wicked cease from troubling, and
16 M. CHANDION.
the weary are at rest," waiting for the full
fruition of the blessedness of the redeemed, in
that day when a voice shall be heard, " as the
voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of
many waters, and as the voice of mighty
thundering, saying, Alleluia! for the Lord
God omnipotent reigneth. Let us be glad
and rejoice, and give power to him; for the
marriage of the Lamb is come." Rev. xix.
6,7.
17
M. DE CHEVENIX,
THE PERSECUTED INVALID.
THE most striking proofs of penitence were
often exhibited in the sick chambers of the
new Catholics, as they were called. From
their dying beds, they often made the most
affecting protestations to the Catholic priests,
who came to offer them the sacraments of the
church, and (if possible) to compel them to
receive them.
In these awful moments, on the point of
appearing before the Judge of quick and dead,
those who until then had concealed their opi-
nions, often felt themselves obliged to raise
the mask, and confess their real sentiments,
giving glory to God, and testifying their faith
in Jesus, as the only Saviour.
Alarmed at these instances of defection in
their forced converts, their persecutors now
obtained a law, decreeing, that those who
2*
18 M. DE CHEVENIX,
relapsed into the Protestant faith, should be
condemned to the amende honorable, and to
banishment with confiscation of property. For
the sick who should refuse the sacraments, and
declare they desired to die in the Protestant
religion, in case they recovered from their
sickness, they were to be subjected to the
same law, with this addition, that banishment
should be exchanged for labour in the gallies,
for the men, and confinement in cloisters, for
the women. If they died in these dispositions,
the same decree ordained, that their bodies
should be drawn on a hurdle, and then thrown
on the highway, and their property confis-
cated.
Among the penitents whose names have
descended to us, and whose dying confessions
have not been without their earthly record, is
M. de Chevenix, a venerable man, fourscore
years of age, one of the oldest counsellors of
the parliament of Metz. When the soldiers
of the king had invested the town, and pur-
sued their barbarous system of conversion, by
means of every cruelty they could devise, the
aged senator, overcome by their persecutions,
had, with many others, signed the abjuration,
THE PERSECUTED INVALID. 19
in order to be relieved from the presence of
their oppressors. A short time after, he fell
sick, and during his illness, which lasted about
two months, he gave many proofs of his
repentance for that act of sinful weakness. As
soon as this was known, a number of priests
hastened to the chamber of the sick man, to
set before him the danger of relapsing into his
former heresy, and, if possible, to confirm him
in the Romish faith. Even the bishop labour-
ed to secure the constancy of the new convert.
Nor was it priests alone who came to disturb
the quiet and repose so necessary to an inva-
lid. The governor and the principal mem-
bers of the council, likewise gathered around
his bed, harassing him with arguments, and
pressing on him the superstitions of their
church. But his hour of weakness was past.
Though he had fallen, he was strengthened to
rise again, so that the enemy could not finally
triumph over him. He was enabled to resist
all their arguments and all their entreaties,
with the greatest firmness. A short time be-
fore his death, the cure of the place came to
offer him the sacraments, as a final trial of his
faith. He thanked him mildly, but said, he
20 M. DE CHEVENIX,
was not disposed to receive them. The priest
withdrew, but it was to carry the complaint
of his contumacy to the proper court. Life
was now rapidly waning, and the sick man
expired before any further measures could be
taken. It was too late to inflict personal suf-
fering on the relapsed heretic, but there was
still time to expose his lifeless remains to the
indignities decreed by the new law. The
Senechal commanded, that the dead body
should be carried to prison, and condemned
it to be drawn on the hurdle, and afterwards
thrown on the highway. To prevent a cir-
cumstance so distressing to the feelings of his
surviving friends, an appeal was made from
the decree of the Senechal, to the parliament
of Metz. The senators, though Catholics,
were struck with horror, at the idea of con-
firming such a sentence against the body of
one of their colleagues. They addressed them-
selves without delay to the court, to obtain
permission to reverse the decree; but they
received immediately an order from the king,
commanding them to execute it in its fullest
rigour. They were then obliged to confirm
the sentence of the Senechal, and to deliver
THE PERSECUTED INVALID. 21
the body to the executioner, to perform the
rest of the revolting decree.
Contrary to the hopes and wishes of the
Catholic party, this severity against so res-
pected and important an inhabitant of the
place,- instead of intimidating the Protestants,
tended to rouse their spirits, and determine
them to declare their sentiments with more
boldness. As the body was drawn through
the streets, many testified their indignation at
the sight. "Behold a man of God!" ex-
claimed some. " He is in his car of triumph,"
said others. The melancholy spectacle passed
on, and others were heard to say, " His body
is in the hand of the executioner, but his soul
is with his God." Others said, " His body is
defiled with dust, but his soul is washed in the
blood of Jesus Christ." The soldiers who
accompanied the executioner to support him
in his duty, in vain endeavoured to keep the
people silent: the powerful feeling which had
been excited, could not be suppressed in an
instant. When the executioner had performed
his part, and ended by throwing the lifeless
body on the highway, the people of Metz had
the courage to carry it away, and inter it
22 M. DE CHEVENIX.
honourably. It was not the Protestants only,
who testified their abhorrence of this act; even
the Catholic inhabitants were incensed at this
treatment of one of the most respected of their
citizens. They wrapped the body in a cloth,
and bore it into a garden where a grave was
prepared to receive it. Many persons attended
to assist in performing the last offices; and it
is said more than four hundred women were
present. While the body was lowered into
the grave, they sung, with a loud voice, the
79th Psalm, where the prophet deplores the
ruin of Jerusalem in such affecting strains,
saying, amongst other things peculiarly appro-
priate to the present case, " The dead bodies
of thy servants have they given to be meat
unto the fowls of heaven, the flesh of thy
saints unto the beasts of the earth."
Instances without number might be adduced
of far severer treatment than that of M. Che-
venix; but desirous to place these narratives
in the hands of young people, we do not wish
to shock their feelings, by a detail of many of
the horrible excesses of this persecution.
23
M. D'ALGUE,
AND THE ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL IN THE
MOUNTAINS OF CEVENNES.
AMONG the severe decrees contained in the
Edict of Revocation, was an order for the
immediate demolition of all the Protestant
churches. This order was so zealously dis-
charged, that it is said, in a few days, there
was only one left standing in the whole king-
dom. At the same time, the reformed were
forbidden to celebrate their worship in any
private house, or in any place whatever.
It was however impossible to persuade those
who had found delight in the ordinances of
God, " to forsake the assembling of themselves
together;" and hence arose what the French
writers term, " the preaching in the desert."
Scarcely were the churches thrown down, and
the ministers chased from the kingdom, whei/
their deserted flocks thought of supplying the
loss of public worship by private services.
24 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE
For this end, little companies met together in
remote and secret places, amid the stillness
and darkness of the night. And oftentimes
did they realize that blessed promise of the
Saviour, " Where two or three are gathered
together in my name, there am I in the midst
of them."
Though their regular pastors were driven
into exile, their God, in whom they trusted,
did not forsake them, but raised them up
"judges, as at the first, and counsellors, as at
the beginning."
" What, when a Paul has run his course,
Or when Apollos dies,
Shall we be left without resource ?
Has Israel no supplies ?
Yes, while the dear Redeemer lives,
We have a boundless store,
And shall be fed with what he gives,
Who lives for evermore."
In the absence of their stated pastors, pious
and faithful men were raised up to comfort
and instruct the persecuted brethren. Gradu-
ally their little companies increased, and be-
came large assemblies. Consoled and edified
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 25
by the discourses of the new ministers, the
people gladly received them in the place of
those whom the tyranny of their oppressors
had torn from them. Elders were also ap-
pointed, to watch over the conduct of the
members, and to give them notice of the time
and place for assembling. So closely were
they watched by their enemies, that it was
often impossible to hold their meetings a
second time in the same place, notwithstand-
ing all the precautions they took.
At these assemblies they sung praises to
God, and offered up the most fervent prayers.
There too they heard, with a delight and
interest which we can scarcely conceive, por-
tions of the sacred Scriptures. That forbidden
book could only be read by stealth and in
secret. So cautious were the Catholics to
deprive the Protestants of this precious trea-
sure, that there was nothing they made more
accurate search after, when they entered the
houses of the reformed, than Bibles and Tes-
taments. These, with all their religious books
they could discover, were committed to the
flames.
To these persecuted ones, literally "wan-
3
26 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE
dering in deserts and caves," like those of
whom the Holy Spirit has declared, " the
world was not worthy," how inexpressibly
consoling it must have been, to hear again
those blessed promises which abound in the
written word! How delightful, once more
with their brethren, to return thanks unto the
God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
who kept them by his power, "through faith
unto salvation, ready to be revealed in the last
time," " wherein they greatly rejoiced, though
now, for a season, they were in heaviness,
through manifold temptations!"
With what energy and unction did the min-
isters set before their hearers the great truths
of the gospel ! How strongly did they enforce
obedience to its commands! How affection-
ately did they apply all its consoling promi-
ses! In these assemblies also they celebrated
the ordinance of the Lord's Supper with the
most devout feelings; and while they partook
of the symbolic pledges of his love, they felt
their faith strengthened; and they often sepa-
rated, encouraging each other to devote them-
selves wholly to the cause of Christ, and to
suffer all things cheerfully for his sake. Thus
ASSEMBLIES OP THE FAITHFUL. 27
mutually comforted and edified, they "thanked
God, and took courage. "
It has been often remarked, that in seasons
of especial grief, the greatest consolations are
vouchsafed. It was in the midst of the over-
whelming distresses of the children of Israel,
that the light shone miraculously on them in
Goshen, when darkness covered the land of
their Egyptian oppressors. It was to the dis-
consolate Hagar, cast out of the house of her
master, and on the point of perishing with her
child in the wilderness, that an angel was sent
to comfort and strengthen her. It was in a
season of the most profound affliction, that the
first promises of the gospel were verified to
the disciples of Christ. The same has been
experienced by the children of God in every
age. It was even thus with the members of
the Gallic churches, in their fiery trial; and
they found Him in whom they trusted, a very
present help in time of trouble. Many en-
joyed such strong spiritual consolation, and
were so lifted above all the sorrows of time,
that their souls were absorbed with holy joy.
Their seasons of devotional exercise often
proved to them means of deepest consolation ;
28
and the feelings of some were so highly raised,
that they believed they heard heavenly voices
around them, chanting the praises of God;
and that, in their hidden and lonely retreats,
angel visitants, though unseen, were near, to
strengthen their faith and administer to their
comfort in the hour of extremity. And in
the latter case, who shall presume to call them
mistaken, or to say that they carried their
faith to an unwarrantable extent? Are we not
assured, that the angels of heaven are " minis-
tering spirits, sent forth to minister to the
heirs of salvation ?"
The secret assemblies to which we have
alluded, first took place amid the mountains of
Cevennes and in Lower Languedoc. (See
Appendix, Note 1.) Sometimes they were
held in caves, formed by the excavations in
the extensive stone quarries of the district;
sometimes in lonely houses in desert places;
sometimes in the open air, in the most retired
situations. Often it happened, that the large
barns used by the Catholic clergy for the re-
ception of their tithes, standing at a distance
from inhabited buildings, offered a convenient
rendezvous. In these wild retreats, they met
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 29
by the light of glimmering lamps for their
holy purposes. On one occasion, more than
two thousand persons were assembled. The
minister, a powerful and energetic preacher,
exhorted the congregation to guard against
every temptation to join the Catholic party,
and never to allow themselves to be led away
by the example of those who, to escape per-
secution, consented to attend mass. While
the preacher pressed on his hearers all the
arguments for constancy, M. Arnaud Mar-
chand, of St. Hyppolite, suddenly rose, and
stretching forth his hand towards heaven,
solemnly vowed that he would never more
attend mass. Such a protest, in the midst of
such a scene, had a powerful effect on the
minds of others; and, indeed, the greater part
of this large assembly followed his example,
and took on them this vow of constancy.
Whatever hardships were connected with
attendance on these nightly meetings, often in
the most inconvenient places and in the most
inclement weather, happy did the Protestants
esteem themselves, if they could repair to the
place of rendezvous and return undiscovered.
Often they were detected by the watchfulness
3*
30 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE
of their enemies, and too often they were be-
trayed by false friends.
One assembly, in which an excellent min-
ister, M. d'Algue, had presided, was discover-
ed by one of these pretended friends. They
had taken the precaution to place sentinels at
all the avenues, to secure themselves against
surprise while they were engaged in the ex-
ercises of piety. One of those to whom they
had confided this office, quitted his post, and
hastened to St. Etienne, to give some of the
king's troops information of the assembty.
An officer and twenty men put themselves
under the guidance of the faithless sentinel,
who conducted them, but too surely, to the
place of meeting. They found the assembly
engaged in celebrating the Lord's Supper. In
the midst of this peaceful scene of Christian
communion, the soldiers rushed in with fury,
making a discharge which at once threw
many to the ground. Then drawing their
swords, they struck indiscriminately at all
they met, whether men, women or children,
killing some, and wounding great numbers.
They afterwards pursued all who had fled on
their approach, to hide themselves among the
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 31
rocks, and treated such as they could find in
a similar manner. Among those who had
taken flight, there were many who, finding
they were pursued by the soldiers, threw
themselves into the river which crossed their
way, hoping to find the fording place, and
pass in safety. But as it was night the greater
part were unable to discover the ford, and
were carried away by the current and drown-
ed. M. d'Algue, their pastor, favoured by
the darkness escaped on this occasion, but was
taken some time after, together with his
friend, the Sieur Roques, one of the elders of
the church of Caderles. They had both re-
mained firm to their religion, and had been
compelled to seek concealment, by wandering
about in the forests for eighteen or twenty
months. They were at length arrested, and
brought to trial. The crimes of wThich they
were accused were, the having kept them-
selves concealed for a long time, that they
might not be obliged to change their religion;
the having assisted at many Protestant assem-
blies, and performed in them the functions of
ministers or readers. They pleaded guilty to
all these charges; and when they were asked if
32 M. D'ALGUE, AND THE
they were not aware that they had acted con-
trary to the orders of the king, they replied,
that they had disobeyed these orders because
they were contrary to the commands of God,
and they ought rather to obey God than man.
They were condemned to be hung. A free
pardon was offered them, if they would con-
sent to sign the abjuration; but they were not
men to purchase their lives by such means.
Contrary to the usual custom, they were
conducted to punishment separately, and both
met their death with the firmness of devoted
martyrs. In going to the place of execution,
they were again solicited to unite themselves
to the Catholic church, and thus escape the
fearful punishment which awaited them; but
they both replied, they thanked God that he
had given them grace to die for his cause.
The executioner of Nismes, who performed
the fatal office for so many of the followers of
Jesus, was, it is said, at length conscience-
struck at the enormity of his guilt, and fell
into a sickness which proved mortal. During
his illness, his place was supplied in a way
scarcely credible. His daughter, attired as a
man, took the office on herself, and after her
ASSEMBLIES OF THE FAITHFUL. 33
father's death she assisted the new execu-
tioner. She was in attendance with him on
the scaffold of M. d'Algue. Possessed, as she
was, by the very spirit of bloodshed and vio-
lence, the firmness of the sufferer, instead of
commanding her respect, roused her to such
dxcess of anger, that she struck him with her
clenched fist several times on the face, with
inconceivable fury. The patient sufferer bore
this indignity without uttering a complaint
He listened calmly at the foot of the scaffold,
while his condemnation was read aloud, and
afterwards mounted the ladder with a cheer-
ful air. He then prayed for a blessing on
those who had caused his death, and exhorted
his persecutors to repent, and be converted,
and no longer to war against God.
Such was the closing act of the life of M.
d'Algue. Perhaps there is scarcely one among
the accounts of the martyrdoms at Nismes,
more simply touching than this, from the
peculiar meekness and holy patience of the
victim.
" Then was the evil day of tyranny,
As yet the Church, the holy spouse of God,
34 M.
In members few, had wandered in her weeds
Of mourning, persecuted, scorned, reproached ;
And buffeted, and killed; in members few,
Tho' seeming many whiles; then fewest oft
When seeming most. She still had hung her harp
Upon the willow tree, and sighed, and wept
From age to age. -
Troubled on every side, but not distressed;
Weeping, but yet despairing not ; cast down,
But not destroyed : for she upon the palms
Of God was graven, and precious in his sight."
POLLOK.
35
M. FULCRAND RE1.
THE DEVOTED PASTOR-
AMONG the ministers who sacrificed their
lives on the altar of their faith, was M. Ful-
crand Rei, a young man twenty-four years of
age, student of theoJogy^at Nismes. From his
birth, his parents had devoted him to the
ministry, and by the good providence of God
he was especially prepared, at an early age, to
enter on the holy office, and peculiarly fitted
for the discharge of its duties in these trou-
blous times, when a double portion of faith,
zeal, and unbending constancy was necessary
for those who became the ambassadors of
Christ to the people. With a heart deeply
affected by the desolate state of the churches,
he gave himself up unreservedly to the cause
of the Redeemer. His first aim was to col-
lect together some of the remnants of the scat-
tered flocks that were now wandering as sheep
36 M« FULCRAND REI,
without a shepherd. With this view, he went
first into Upper Languedoc and Guienne,
where his person was not known, and where
he therefore might be better able to labour in
his office, undiscovered by the enemies of the
Protestant church. But he found the minds
of the people in these districts so filled with
alarm and consternation, that in most instances
they dared not listen to his exhortations, or
even provide him with a place of retreat. He
succeeded, however, in gathering together two
or three small assemblies, assisted by two Pro-
testant gentlemen, who were themselves fugi-
tives, seeking concealment from their adver-
saries, having refused to bow the knee to the
idol of Catholic worship. Finding himself
unable to do more in that quarter, he returned
to the neighbourhood of Nismes, hoping there
to reap a richer harvest; nor was he altogether
disappointed. He was favourably received
by his brethren, and had established several
assemblies, when he was betrayed by the
treachery of a man who had obtained his con-
fidence. But his work was not yet finished,
and the God whom he served protected him
in the midst of his enemies, and enabled him
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 37
to retire with safety into Languedoc. Here
and in Albigeois he resided some time, until
new dangers compelled him to return into his
native province. Arrived once more in the
vicinity of Nismes, it was impossible for him
to resume his pastoral labours among his
former friends, as it was necessary for him to
keep himself as closely concealed as possible,
in order that he might escape the observation
of his enemies. But to a truly devoted mind,
means of usefulness will occur, in situations
apparently the most unfavourable.
M. Rei was enabled, from his obscure re-
treat to pour consolation into the hearts of his
suffering brethren confined in the prisons of
the district, by the letters he addressed to
them, tending powerfully to strengthen their
faith, and confirm them in the resolution to
suffer every evil their persecutors could inflict,
rather than desert the holy cause in which
they were engaged. While thus occupied
with the talent at that time committed to his
care, a way unexpectedly opened for more
extensive usefulness. He received an invita-
tion to go into the Cevennes, where a large
body of the faithful sighed after the word of
4
38 M. FULCRAND REI,
God. He obeyed this call with joy and
thankfulness, though fully aware of the dan-
gers he encountered in accepting so prominent
a station among the persecuted. Impressed
with a sense of the perils which awaited him,
he would not expose either himself or his
father to the anguish of a personal adieu, but
addressed a farewell letter to him before he
left Nismes, entreating him to prepare himself
for the early martyrdom of his son; telling
him that his conscience inspired him to go
and sacrifice himself for God, and for the
interest of the church. He expressed his en-
tire resignation to the will of his heavenly
Master, in whatever way he might see fit to
dispose of him; and he exhorted his father not
to murmur, in case he should hear that he was
arrested, but to endure patiently all the suf-
ferings it should please God to send him.
Arrived in the Cevennes, he preached the gos-
pel with truth and fervour. To those who
were faithful in the midst of so many trials,
he addressed the word of consolation. Those
who had fallen into the snares of the enemy,
he exhorted to retrace their steps, and to re-
turn to their allegiance, as faithful followers
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 39
of Jesus Christ. Those who were wavering,
he sought to confirm in the right path, by the
most powerful and affecting arguments.
While he thus laboured with the zeal of an
apostle, the enemies of the good cause to
which he was devoted watched for his des-
truction, and, a second time, a treacherous
friend was found to betray his place of retreat.
He was at Anduze, concealed in the house of
a tanner in the suburbs. To this house the
officers of government were conducted by the
traitor, and M. Rei was seized, and dragged
before a magistrate with great violence. From
thence he was committed to prison, loaded
with irons, and kept constantly within sight
of the dragoons, lest some means of effecting
his escape should be devised. From the pri-
son of Anduze he was transferred to that of
Alez, from Alez to Nismes, and from Nismes
to Beaucaire. Every where he was exposed
to the persecutions of the monks and others,
who undertook to labour for the conversion of
the heretics. They tried every means to shake
his constancy, but in vain. When interro-
gated by his judges, with regard to the accu-
sations brought against him, he replied fear-
40 M. FULCRAND RET,
lessly, that he had preached often, and in
every place where he had found the faithful
assembled. But when they wished to carry
their inquiries further, arid to induce him to
discover the names of those who attended the
assemblies in which he had presided, he gave
no answer, and nothing could draw any fur-
ther information from his lips.
Fearful of unnerving his mind by inter-
views with those to whom he was bound by
the dearest and tenderest ties, he begged, as
an especial favour of the officer who conducted
him to Nismes, that he might not be permit-
ted to see his father, or any of his relations
there; but that they might simply be inform-
ed, that he was entirely resigned to the will
of God, and that the most cruel punishments
could not shake his constancy.
It was determined that he should be exe-
cuted at Beaucaire, rather than at Nismes,
because of the great number of Protestants in
Nismes, whose faith, it was feared, might be
strengthened by such an example of firmness
as the young pastor exhibited; while their
feelings could not fail to be deeply affected by
witnessing the death of this devoted servant
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 41
of God, cut off in the midst of his days, by the
hand of the cruel oppressor. Such a sight
was certainly no argument in favour of that
church under whose sanction the deed was
done.
Beaucaire, four leagues from Nismes, had
long been the residence of Catholics, wholly
devoted to the superstitions of the Romish
church, and the light of the reformation had
never penetrated there. To this place, there-
fore, M. Rei was transferred for the final pun-
ishment. Here, as at other places, he had to
listen to the arguments of the monks and other
persons, who came to persuade him to change
his religion. The intendant, Baville, one of
his judges, touched, it should seem, with un-
wonted compassion, came to speak to him.
He took him aside, and conjured him to have
pity on himself. He threatened him with
death if he persevered in his faith, and pro-
mised him life, if he would abandon his reli-
gion. But neither threats nor promises had
power to shake his resolution.
When he was brought out for the final exa-
mination before the judges, the intendant
made a last effort to prevail with him to
4*
42 M. FULCRAND REI,
change his opinion. "M. Rei," said he
" there is yet time to save yourself." — " Yes,
my lord," replied M. Rei, "and I will employ
for my salvation the time that remains to
me." — "It is only necessary to change," con-
tinued the intendant, "and you shall live." —
"It is indeed necessary to change," replied
M. Reij " but it is in going from earth to
heaven, where a life of happiness awaits me,
which I shall soon possess." The intendant
assured him that he might depend on his
words, and that he would really grant him his
life, if he would change his religion. " Do
not promise me this miserable life," said he;
" I am entirely weaned from it. Death is
better than life for me. If I had feared
death," he continued, " I should not have
been here. God has given me a knowledge
of his truth, and he will grant me grace to
profess it constantly unto death. For all the
treasures in the world, I would not renounce
those which God has prepared for me in
paradise."
After this, he was again examined on the
charges brought against him. The intendant
asked if he had preached: "Yes, my lord,"
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 43
was the reply. He was then asked where he
had preached: he answered, "I have preached
in all places where I have found the assemblies
of the faithful." He was asked if he knew
the king had forbidden it: "The King of
kings," said he, " had commanded me to do
it; and it is right to obey God rather than
man."
Again they attempted to discover in what
places the assemblies at which he had presided
were held, and what were the names of the
persons who attended. But on this subject
his lips were firmly closed, and nothing could
induce him to expose his brethren to danger.
Finding him immovable, they proceeded to
pass the sentence. He was condemned to be
hung; but first the torture was to be applied,
to make him discover his accomplices. The
commissary, whose office it was to read the
decree of the court to the prisoner, desirous, if
possible, to save a man whose heroic conduct
excited interest in every breast, entreated him
once more to think of himself. "I have
thought/' replied he, "and my resolution is
taken. It is no longer a question of delibe-
ration. I am quite ready to die, if God has
44 M. FULCRANU REI,
so ordained it. All the promises which may
be made to me can never shake my constancy."
The commissary, convinced of the firmness
of his prisoner, at length read the paper of
condemnation. He heard it without change
of countenance, or any appearance of fear or
sorrow: on the contrary, he testified his joy
that God had given him grace to suffer for his
name, and expressed his thankfulness that he
had been condemned to a milder punishment
than he had anticipated. " They treat me,"
he said, "more mildly than my Saviour was
treated. I had prepared myself to be broken
on the wheel, or burnt alive." Then raising
his eyes to heaven, he exclaimed: " I return
thee thanks, Lord of heaven and earth, for the
many benefits thou hast bestowed upon me.
I thank thee that thou hast counted me worthy
to suffer for thy name, and to die for thee;
and I thank thee also, that thou hast called me
to suffer a death so mild, after having disposed
me to endure the most cruel death for love of
thee."
Though the torture was applied with the
utmost severity, he endured it with so much
firmness, that he did not allow a single com-
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 45
plaint to escape him. During this punish-
ment, nothing was extorted from him to the
disadvantage of his brethren. He made no
reply to the questions which were put to him,
except that he had said all, and had nothing
more to confess. When he was released from
the torture, he said to those around him, " I
"Tiave scarcely suffered. I believe that you
have suffered more than I have. I protest to
you, I have scarcely felt any pain." It was
proposed to him to take some food; he did not
object: he even ate tranquilly, although he
knew he had only a few hours to live.
During his repast, he said to those about him,
"Others eat to live, and I eat to die. This is
the last repast I shall take on earth; but in
heaven there is a banquet prepared, to which
I am invited, and angels will this night con-
duct me to it. Glorified spirits will soon
carry me away to participate with them in the
joys of paradise/'
From this time the monks constantly at-
tended him, persecuting him with their per-
suasions and arguments; but he confounded
them* all by his answers. In the midst of
these distractions, he evidently sought to raise
46 M. FULCRAND REI,
his soul continually to God. Sometimes he
gave utterance to fervent prayer, or chanted
portions of the Psalms. The constancy and
the devotion displayed in these last hours of
his life, touched the hearts of all his attendants;
even the monks could not restrain their tears.
In the evening, when they were about to
conduct him to the place of punishment, two
monks presented themselves to accompany
him, and told him they were come to comfort
him. "I have no need of you," he replied:
"I have a more faithful comforter within me."
One of them said, " But do you not wish that
we should accompany you?" " No," replied
the martyr; " I have the company of angels,
who are about my person, and who have pro-
mised that they will be with me to my latest
breath." But the monks were not to be pre-
vented from attending him: they walked on
either side of him, and were witnesses of the
constancy with which he went to martyrdom.
His countenance was radiant with joy, and he
gave striking proofs of the faith and hope,
which filled his heart. The streets through
which he passed were crowded with people,
and among them he perceived many persons
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 47
of his acquaintance who had abjured the Pro-
testant religion. He saluted them; and seeing
the tears flow from their eyes, he said, "Weep
not for me, weep for yourselves: I shall very
soon he delivered from the sufferings of this
world, but I leave you behind. Repent, and
God will have mercy on you."
He was led out of the town by the gate of
Beauregarde. It was from this gate that he
discovered the scaffold which was prepared
for him. He had no sooner seen it, than he
exclaimed with holy transport, "Courage!
Courage! This is the place which I have so
long desired, and for which God himself has
prepared me. I see the heavens open to re-
ceive me, and angels prepare to bear me
away."
As he approached nearer, he began to sing
a Psalm, but silence was imposed on him.
Having reached the foot of the scaffold, he
exclaimed, " 0, how favourable is this ladder
to me; .it will serve me as a step to mount to
heaven!" After this, he knelt down, and
continued a long time in prayer, making use
of many parts of the fifty-first Psalm, which
he pronounced aloud, and with much fervour.
48 M. FULCRAND REI,
Having concluded his prayer, he mounted the
ladder with firmness and composure. Seeing
one of the monks ascending after him, he
gently repulsed him saying, "I have already
said, and I tell you again, that I have no need
of your assistance: I have received enough
from my God to enable me to take the last
step in my career."
He would have addressed the people, but
as soon as he opened his mouth, a number of
kettle drums were struck to prevent his voice
from being heard. Perceiving that it would
be in vain to speak, he resigned himself into
the hands of the executioner, with the same
firmness as he had evinced from the first.
Soon the last act of the tragedy was finished,
and the lifeless body was all that remained on
earth of M. Fulcrand Rei. Even the dark-
ened inhabitants of Beaucaire testified emo-
tion at his death, and many exclaimed aloud,
that he had died a true martyr.
" Ye who your Lord's commission bear,
His way of mercy to prepare —
Angels He calls ye — be your strife
To lead on earth an angel's life.
Think not of rest ; though dreams be sweet,
THE DEVOTED PASTOR. 49
Start up and ply your heavenward feet.
Is not God's oath upon your head,
Ne'er to shrink back on slothful bed?
Never again your loins untie,
Nor let your torches waste and die,
Till when the shadows thickest fall,
Ye hear your Master's midnight call?*' — KEBLE.
50
JEAN MIGAULT,*
THE READER OF MOULLB.
AT the village of Moulle, a few leagues from
Niort, in the department of the Deux Sev-
res, lived Jean Migault. He had married,
at the age of eighteen, an amiable and pious
woman, and at five-and-thirty he saw himself
the father of eleven children. To support
this numerous family, together with his
mother-in-law, who resided with them, all his
exertions were necessary. He inherited a
very small patrimony, and he had been ap-
pointed to succeed his father as reader in the
Protestant church of the place. With this
he combined the office of public notary, and
* The circumstances here detailed, are drawn from
" A Narrative of the Sufferings of a French Protestant
Family, written by John Migault, the Father. Trans-
lated, and now first published from the original Manu-
script.—London, 1824."
JEAN MIGAULT. 51
he undertook the tuition of a number of pupils,
twelve of whom boarded at his house. All
these various functions he seems to have dis-
charged faithfully ; and he records, with thank-
fulness, the peace and prosperity which at-
tended him in these years of busy occupation.
" Domestic happiness, the only bliss
Of Paradise that has survived the fall,"
was his in a high degree; and the pious grati-
tude with which Jean Migault and his wife
received their every comfort, as immediate
gifts from their Heavenly Father, communi-
cated to all an inexpressible sweetness.
While months and years were thus passing
happily away in the village of Moulle, a dark
cloud was rising in the distance, which gradu-
ally extended itself, and at last burst on the
Protestants of France, in a fearful storm of
persecution. Jean Migault and his wife were
not unobservant spectators of the coming dan-
ger. They foresaw that some terrible crisis
drew near, though, like the prophet's servant
on Mount Carmel, they could discern the
symptoms of its approach only as a cloud no
bigger than a man's hand. The Protestants
52 JEAN MIGAULT.
were still living under the protection of that
act of toleration so celebrated as the edict of
Nantes; but the power of the Jesuits, their
unwearied enemies, was daily gaining ground
in the court of Louis XIV. Every year they
succeeded in curtailing the privileges of the
Protestant church.
As the year 1685 approached, their acts be-
came more and more oppressive; and many,
alarmed by the signs of the times, already re-
tired to foreign countries. The reader of
Moull6 and his family, although anxious ob-
servers of these things, placing their humble
trust in Him, who had hitherto provided for
them, still pursued their occupations, and wait-
ed in patience the result of these oppressions.
They little imagined how fearful the termina-
tion would be.
First came a decree, in 1681, depriving
Protestants of all civil employments what-
ever, and including many other severities for
those who continued firm in the faith of the
Reformed church. By this stroke Migault's
income was greatly lessened; in the first place,
by the loss of his office as notary, and next,
by the secession of many of his friends and
JEAN MIGAULT. 53
neighbours to the Catholic church. These
timid Protestants, when distress and persecu-
tion arose because of the word, fell away, and
as they were fearful of risking their charac-
ters among their newly-acquired brethren, by
leaving their children under the care of a Pro-
testant, Migault's school was so much dimin-
ished, as to leave him little chance of provi-
ding for his family from that source. At this
juncture, the members of the consistory invi-
ted him to establish himself at Mougon, and
offered him a salary of sixty francs a year, if
he would exercise the functions of reader and
secretary to the church there. It was not
until after much deliberation, that this offer
was accepted by the Migaults, whose hearts
were filled with mournful presages of the fate
which awaited them at Mougon. Thither
they removed in February, 1681. They
were no sooner arrived, than they met with
immediate opposition and unkindness from
the Catholic minister resident there. It is
probable the circumstance of Migault's com-
ing to officiate in the Protestant church, ex-
cited that determined enmity in the heart of
the cur£, which he afterwards found too many
5*
54 JEAN MIGAULT.
occasions to display. He began by forbidding
Migault to take up his residence at Mougon,
and threatening him with the severest conse-
quences if he settled himself any where with-
in the limits of his territory. Not conceiving
it would be in the power of this stern bigot to
execute his threats, he was not intimidated,
and he fixed himself in his new residence as
quietly as he could, with his wife and his
mother-in-law, his eleven children, and his
twelve scholars.
There this truly respectable family resum-
ed their wonted employments, and were per-
mitted to remain four or five months undis-
turbed by their enemies. At the end of that
period, the peaceable inhabitants of Mougon
were alarmed by the arrival of one of those
regiments of cavalry, which had filled so
many of the Protestant towns and villages
with consternation and distress. The first
movement of these dragoons, when they en-
tered any place, was to quarter themselves at
the houses of the Protestants, where they ex-
hibited the most rapacious conduct, rarely
quitting them until the owners were entirely
ruined, unless they avoided this extremity by
JEAN MIGAULT. 55
renouncing their faith. The moment they
professed themselves Catholics, their persecu-
tors left them, and repaired to the house of
the nearest heretic, to assist such of their com-
rades as were already stationed there, in com-
pleting either the conversion or the ruin of
this family also.
Every day, numbers of these forced con-
verts were seen hastening to attend mass.
Such was the terror occasioned by the arrival
of the dragoons, in consequence of the cruel-
ties of which they had been guilty, that it is
said, a single soldier has been known to de-
termine all the first families in a place to ab-
jure their religion, by merely riding into the
town with some scraps of paper in his hand,
which he pretended were quarter-master's bil-
lets. This readiness to change in the many,
aggravated tenfold the sufferings of the few
who remained firm and unshaken. In gene-
ral, the soldiers did not quit a parish while
there was a single Protestant remaining, or
any property belonging to them which could
be converted into money. The mode of car-
rying on these executions was extremely sys-
tematic. They began by demanding of their
56 JEAN MIGAULT.
involuntary hosts sums of the following
amount: — for a superior officer fifteen francs a
day, for a lieutenant nine francs, for a private
soldier three francs, and thirty sols for the
lowest individual in any way attached to the
regiment. If these demands were not prompt-
ly complied with, they seized and sold furni-
ture, cattle, or whatever they could most rea-
dily find to answer their purpose. Many of
the Catholics acquired riches by these sales;
for the officer who sold the goods, seldom paid
any regard to the real value of the article, but
took whatever price was -offered, and if one
thing did not bring him enough money, di-
rectly sold more to make up the deficiency.
Thus cruelly oppressed and despoiled, those
who would not apostatize, were generally
compelled, in the end, to fly, in order to save
their lives, or to avoid imprisonment. Often
they effected their escape in the night with
their wives and children, and then had no
resource but to wander in the woods, without
food, and almost without clothing. There
might be seen also women, separated from
their husbands, accompanied by their little
ones, driven wild with terror and distress,
JEAN MIGAULT. 57
and still flying, when they were no longer
pursued by their enemies.
The persecution had raged for some time in
the neighbourhood, and warned by what was
passing around him, Migault had prudently
dismissed his pupils, and sent his own chil-
dren into more secure asylums. They were
now twelve in number. Jean and Louis, un-
der the care of their grandmother, repaired to
the Chateau of Grand Breuil, belonging to
Madame de la Bessiere. Ann, Pierre, and
Elizabeth, were concealed at M. Magnen's, in
the Chateau of Gascongnolles. Jacques was
with a third friend; Charles and Gabriel with
a fourth; Jeanne and Marie with a fifth, and
Philemon with a sixth. One only remained
near the parents: this was an infant, seven-
teen days old, named Rene. He was under
the care of a trusty nurse, who it was intend-
ed should have the care of him till his second
year. The nurse and her husband, though
Catholics, were the faithful friends of their
Protestant employers. Events soon occurred,
which proved the wisdom of these measures.
On the 22d of August, as the Protestant inha-
bitants of the place were returning from
58 JEAN MIGAULT.
church, they were alarmed by the appearance
of a troop of cavalry, commanded by M. de
la Brique. This officer, advancing at a gallop,
quickly posted his troop in the church-yard,
and filled the most courageous of the people
with terror, by his fierce and threatening de-
meanour, combined with the knowledge they
all had of the severities exercised by this very
troop in other places.
Scarcely had the trembling Migaults reach-
ed their habitation, when a quarter-master
rode up, and without alighting, demanded in
an imperious tone, whether they intended to
turn Catholics. They were well aware that
their only means to secure themselves from
the oppressions of the soldiery, was to answer
in the affirmative; but endued with strength
from on high to withstand the temptation
under which so many sunk, they joined in
solemnly assuring him that nothing could in-
duce them to change their religion. On
receiving this answer, he withdrew imme-
diately, but with an air little calculated to
quiet their fears. Left alone for a few mo-
ments, they had no resource but silently to
commend themselves in prayer to Him in
JEAN MIGAULT. 59
whose holy cause they were sufferers, and
who hath most consolingly declared, " There
is no man who hath left house, or parents, or
brethren, or wife, or children, for the king-
dom of God's sake, who shall not receive
manifold more in this present time, and, in
the world to come, life everlasting." His
Holy Spirit was present to comfort and sup-
port these humble Christians in their hour of
trial. Scarcely had the quarter-master retired,
when he was succeeded by the commanding
officer, M. de la Brique, who sternly demand-
ed what sum they would give him per day,
during his stay in the place; giving them to
understand, that according to their liberality
towards himself, he should fix the number of
soldiers to be quartered on them. He was
told, that they had really no money at all to
offer him. Perfectly unmoved by this decla-
ration, he proceeded to examine every part of
the house, and afterwards the stables; and
then withdrew, leaving them uncertain what
punishment he would deem due to them for
refusing to give him what they did not pos-
sess.
They were not left long in suspense. Two
60 JEAN MIGAULT.
soldiers soon presented themselves with their
billets; and having lodged their horses in the
stable, commanded their host to prepare a din-
ner for them. They gave detailed orders
for their meal, which, without exaggeration,
would have been sufficient for twenty persons.
While the food was preparing, two more ar-
rived, and having placed their horses in the
stable, joined their comrades in the house.
These were quickly followed by a fifth. The
presence of five rapacious and insolent sol-
diers, might have been thought enough for a
single family to endure; but scarcely were
these all arrived, when they were followed by
four others, who, under pretext that the hay
they had found in the stable was not of the
best quality, began to use the most abusive
language to their host, and to give utterance
to the grossest imprecations, and the most im-
pious blasphemies.
All the company then began to demand,
with loud threats, a supply of different arti-
cles, which it was impossible to obtain in that
little town. Migault represented to them,
that the only means of procuring these things
was by sending to Niort; and in their eager-
JEAN MIGAULT. Q\
ness to get what they had asked for, they gave
him permission to go out and seek for a mes-
senger. On leaving his house, his first care
was to repair to that of two Catholic ladies,
which was contiguous to his own, and which
even had a communication with it, by means
of a concealed door. These benevolent wo-
men, uninfluenced by their differences in reli-
gion, were his warm and devoted friends, as
they had soon occasion to prove themselves.
To these ladies he addressed himself, begging
they would point out some person whom he
might send on his errand to Niort. While he
was still speaking with them, six soldiers rode
up to the door, and demanded a direction to
Migault's house. The ladies pointed out the
house, and then returning to their poor friend,
earnestly recommended him to fly, as the only
means of safety. They told him that the
arrival of this additional number of soldiers to
be quartered at his house, was a proof that his
enemies were resolved on his ruin; and indeed
they knew but too certainly that the cure was
determined to leave no means untried to ac-
complish it. They said it would be the height
of imprudence to return to his house, and
6
62 JEAN MIGAULT.
could benefit nobody; and that, if he would
consent to conceal himself, they would pro-
mise not to abandon his wife, and they would
even venture to assure him, that before the
end of the day they would find means to with-
draw her likewise from the power of their
enemies. This they would undertake to do,
whatever might be the consequence of their
interference to themselves. Poor Migault
lifted up his heart to God, and implored him,
in his mercy, to grant him wisdom to direct
his steps aright. All the perils of a return tp
his dwelling presented themselves forcibly to
his mind, and he resolved to follow the advice
of these excellent women, as the only proba-
ble way of extricating either himself or his
wife from their distressing situation. One of
these kind-hearted friends conducted him, by
a back street, into a garden surrounded by
high walls. There she left him, locking the
door after her. It was then between three
and four o'clock in the afternoon, and he re-
mained in the garden until eight in the even-
ing, tortured with a thousand fears for his
wife. He fancied that he even heard her
calling on his name for assistance, and gently
JEAN MIGAULT. 63
reproaching him for having abandoned her at
the time when she most needed his support.
In truth, her sufferings, during the hours he
remained in the garden, were still greater than
his imagination had depicted; so great indeed,
that when he came to hear the circumstances,
he could only attribute it to a particular inter-
ference of a merciful Providence that her life
was preserved. She was at the time in a deli-
cate state of health, having never recovered
her strength since the birth of her infant, and
therefore was the more especially unfit to
endure hardship. But nothing moved these
men to pity. As soon as they suspected that
Migault had made his escape, they resolved to
wreak their vengeance on his wife. Weak
and exhausted as she was, she had dragged
herself, at their command, to another apart-
ment to fetch them more wine. One of the
soldiers now went in search of her, and strik-
ing her with violence, brought her. back into
the dining-room: then, with the most barbar-
ous irony, he told her that in her weak state
it must be desirable to keep her as warm as
possible, and he compelled her to sit in the
chimney-corner, while his companions made
64 JEAN MIGAULT.
a large fire. They even amused themselves
with feeding the fire, by throwing on it arti-
cles of furniture they found in the room.
Meanwhile the heat was so great, that those
who detained the poor victim so close to it
were obliged to relieve each other every few
minutes. But " this admirable woman," says
her husband, " knowing in whom she had
believed, did not for a single instant lose her
tranquillity of soul. She resigned into the
hands of her Saviour all which could disquiet
or torment her." Her persecutors tried to
induce her to renounce the Protestant faith,
but she repulsed all their importunities with
firmness, until overcome by the distressing
effects of their cruelty, she fainted, and be-
came insensible to their outrages.
The benevolent Catholic ladies were not
unmindful of their promise to Migault. They
were present at this scene, and sought in vain
to soften the ferocious men by whom they
saw their poor neighbour surrounded. They
threw themselves at the feet of the officer,
entreating him to release her from her tor-
mentors. Their intercession was in vain; the
officer was as inexorable as the men: but that
JEAN MIGAtJET. 65
gracious God who is ever ready to aid his
children in the midst of their greatest perils,
had provided a deliverer for her. A few days
before, some business had called away the cure
who was so much the enemy of the Migaults,
to a distance, and his place was supplied for a
short time by the vicar, who was an excellent
man, and one who had often testified his re-
gard for these good Protestants. He was in
the midst of a numerous circle of his friends,
when some one told him of the cruelties exer-
cised by the soldiers, and he hastened to the
house, to exert his influence for the relief of
the poor sufferer. He succeeded in rescuing
Madame Migault from the hands of her per-
secutors, but not until he had first engaged to
return her to them, unless he could induce her
to embrace the Catholic religion by his milder
arguments. Her charitable neighbours heard
this engagement made on the part of the mi-
nister, and were resolved to leave him no
opportunity to fulfil it. They immediately
led their poor friend, more dead than alive,
into another apartment; and when the vicar
would have followed, they told him, that in
the state of health in which she was, it was
6*
66 JEAN MIGAULT.
absolutely necessary to leave her alone with
them for a few moments of repose. As soon
as they had dismissed the friendly vicar, they
hurried the poor invalid through the secret
door, into their own dwelling; and then, assist-
ing her to ascend to the garret, concealed her
under a heap of linen which happened to be
there. Having arranged their plan as speedily
as possible, they returned through the secret
door to the house of Migault, and presented
themselves calmly before the vicar, who im-
mediately demanded, " Where is my pri-
soner?" "She is no longer in the power of
these monsters in human form," they replied.
" Ah, well," said the liberal-minded minister,
" may the All-powerful grant to her and her
husband his merciful protection:" and without
staying to speak again to the soldiers, he left
the house.
It would be difficult to describe the rage of
the disappointed soldiers, when their victim
was escaped. They examined every corner
of the house, and even proceeded to that of
the charitable ladies. The very garret in
which Madame Migault was hidden, was sub-
mitted to their search: but here the protecting
JEAN MIGAULT. 67
care of that gracious God in whom she trusted,
was especially manifested; the heap of linen
was the only thing in the room they did not
examine. After this vain attempt at disco-
very, the soldiers returned to Migault's house,
to console themselves for their loss, by drink-
ing the wine, and seizing on every thing they
wished. The ladies hastened to inform Mi-
gault of the safety of his wife, and directing
him to take the most hidden road to the
neighbouring forest, promised to bring her at
nightfall, to meet him at a particular spot.
The meeting was happily effected; as the
soldiers, instead of watching the roads, re-
mained at the house, making merry over the
wine. The fugitives made their way as ra-
pidly as they could, to the Chateau of Gas-
congnolles, on the road to Niort, where they
had been advised to take refuge. They were
hospitably received by the owner, and pre-
vailed on to retire to rest; but so great was
the agitation of their minds, that they could
not close their eyes. Every noise seemed to
them like the trampling of steeds, and every
voice like the menaces of soldiers, seeking
their destruction. Unable to feel any confi-
68 JEAN MIGAULT.
dence of safety while they were so near Mou-
gon, they parted from their generous enter-
tainer, and proceeded two leagues further to
Niort. Here they took up their abode at the
house of another friend, carefully confining
themselves to their room, lest their retreat
should be discovered. The soldiers, however,
had a wide field before them, and having ob-
tained all the pillage they could in one quar-
ter, they soon passed on to another, but not
without leaving mournful traces of their visits.
It might almost be said of them, " The land
was as the garden of Eden before them, and
behind them a desolate wilderness."
After some time had passed, the persecuted
Protestants, finding all was quiet, ventured to
steal forth from their hiding-places. In order
to ascertain how far it might be safe for the
family, but especially for Migault himself, to
return to Mougon, his courageous and devoted
wife went alone to the chateau of Gascon-
gnolles. Here she heard of the destruction of
part of their furniture, and the sale of the rest.
She afterwards went to her deserted home,
accompanied by three of her children, and
endeavoured to purchase back such portions
JEAN MIGAULT. 69
of her household goods as the little money she
had to offer would procure. Very little could
be obtained; for those who had purchased the
articles at the sale, for a twentieth part of their
value, would not now dispose of them, except
at a price she was unable to give. Nothing
remained for them to do, but to commit their
cause to Him who judgeth righteously, and
acquiesce submissively in what he permits, as
well as what he ordains, assured that he can
bring good out of evil, and will cause all
things to work together for good to those who
fear his name.
Bereft of occupation, and not knowing how
to provide for his family, Migault set out with
two of his sons, without any determined ob-
ject in view. They went first to Grand
Breuil, and from thence to Rochelle. At this
port they found many Protestant families from
their own neighbourhood, whom the terrors
of the persecution had driven from their
homes, and who were waiting to embark for
Holland, England, Ireland, and a few for Car-
olina. These respectable and unoffending
people seemed filled with consternation, and
it was affecting to witness the deplorable cir-
70 JEAN MIGAULT.
cumstances under which they were quitting
their native country.
In 1681, the government put forth a decla-
ration, permitting children to renounce their
religion at the age of seven years, and under
the sanction of this decree, great numbers of
children were seized by the agents of the
Roman Catholic church to make them abjure.
The dread of having their children torn from
them, determined numbers of families in Poi-
tou, Saintonge, and the neighbouring pro-
vinces, to emigrate, so early as 1681, and thus
escape the horrors which awaited those who
remained in the kingdom. Poor Migault also
meditated the departure of himself and those
dearest to him; but he knew not how to carry
his plans into effect, with his family scattered
over so wide a space of country. For the
present it seemed impossible, and he finally
determined to retrace his steps to Grand
Breuil, with his two dear boys, not venturing
as yet to be seen at his old post. At Grand
Breuil he remained during the vintage; and
then, finding that the cavalry had retired to a
considerable distance from Mougon, he re-
paired thither, flattering himself with the hope
JEAN MIGAULT. 71
that they might not be molested again. He
now ventured to assemble around him again
the whole of his beloved family. Whatever
other possessions the marauders had been per-
mitted to tear from him, these, his dearest
earthly treasures, were still preserved; and
with hearts full of gratitude, parents and chil-
dren found themselves once more gathered
together under that lowly roof, beneath which
they had heretofore enjoyed so much domestic
happiness. Some of their pupils likewise re-
turned; the school was again in active opera-
tion, and they were all busily occupied, and
thankfully enjoying this return to the peaceful
duties of their station. But scarcely had they
tasted the cup of joy, when it was again dashed
from their lips. Only two weeks after they
had returned to their dwelling and resumed
their occupations, a body of troops entered the
adjoining parish of Thorigne. It was chiefly
inhabited by Protestants, who had been ena-
bled to stand firm in the day of trial, during
the first visit of the military to that quarter.
Very few had been induced to renounce their
creed; and the cure, a severe and bigoted
man, was so incensed by the constancy they
72 JEAN MIGAULT.
exhibited, that he now instigated the soldiers
to acts of wanton cruelty, compared with
which their former conduct was mild and
harmless. But the good protestants of Tho-
rigne were still enabled to stand their ground.
He in whose gracious keeping they confided,
and for whose sake they were willing to bear
all manner of evil, gave them a spirit of
patient endurance, honourable to the cause
they had espoused, and calculated to strengthen
the faith of those weaker brethren, who might
have been ready to yield when the enemy
approached their borders. They could say
with the Psalmist, "My soul is continually in
my hand, yet do I not forget thy law. The
wicked have laid a snare for me, yet I erred
not from thy precepts. I have inclined my
heart to perform thy statutes always, even
unto the end."
Very few instances of apostasy occurred
notwithstanding the severe measures adopted;
and the forest was crowded a second time with
fugitives, who sought a temporary shelter from
the fury of their enemies. The Migaults
trembled at what was passing around them,
and determined once more to quit Mougon,
JEAN MIGAULT. 73
and place themselves and their whole family
under the protection of Madame de la Bess-
iere, who had generously offered them her
chateau as an asylum. On the last day of
October, they decided to hold themselves in
readiness to set out in the course of the fol-
lowing night. Migault went into the country
to borrow a horse, on which they might carry
three of the younger children, who were una-
ble to walk so far, and his wife packed up
their scanty wardrobe, and made every pre-
paration for their departure. " It is indeed a
true aphorism," Migault remarks at this part
of his narrative: "It is indeed a true apho-
rism, that though man proposes, it is God
who disposes. He was pleased to frustrate
our project; and I hope we were preserved
from all impious and unavailing complaints."
The cur£ still bent on accomplishing the
ruin of his poor neighbours, advised the com-
mander of the troops in Thorigne to march
suddenly to Mougon, in order that he might
entrap the three Protestant families residing
there, without giving them time to make their
escape. Madame Migault was, with three of
her younger children, awaiting her husband's
74 JEAN MIGAULT.
return) when she saw the soldiers enter at
both their gates. Taken thus by surprise, she
had only time to seize two of the children, and
escape through the private door, to which she
had before been indebted for her safety. The
kind ladies who had befriended her in the
former case, were not wanting in care and
attention now. They secreted her and her
two children in a corn-loft. The soldiers,
attended by the cure, searched for the Mi-
gaults in their own dwelling, and in the house
of their friends, without being able to discover
them. For some hours, Madame Migault
remained concealed in the loft, with her two
children, a prey to the most distressing anxi-
ety, and unable to ascertain the fate of her
husband and the rest of her family. The dear
little boy she had left in the house, she could
hear crying, as in great distress, and calling on
her for help. By and by his cries ceased;
and she afterwards found that, terrified by the
harsh treatment of the depredators, he stole
away into the garden, and endeavoured to
hide himself in an alley of evergreens, where
he was observed by a poor woman, who com-
passionately took him to her own home for
JEAN MIGAULT. 75
security. The mother of Madame Migault
was also in the house when the cavalry were
seen to approach. She sought refuge in a
neighbouring dwelling, and happily succeeded
in gathering round her four of the children,
who were wandering in the streets.
The soldiers seized on the packages of
clothing, and sold or bartered what they did
not want: they did the same by the beds, &c.;
and afterwards, with the assistance of a car-
penter, whom the cure had summoned to help
them, they destroyed every piece of furniture
which had not been sold, broke down the clo-
sets, and demolished all the windows and
doors, leaving the house a ruin. Madame
Migault was within hearing of this work of
destruction, being only separated from it by a
wall. The silence that followed, indicated
that her riotous assailants had departed.
In the course of the night, she ventured to
quit her place of concealment, and sought
refuge, for a short time^, with the worthy wo-
man who nursed her youngest child, then only
twelve weeks old. This dear infant she found
in a state which, under other circumstances,
would have absorbed all her feelings, and
76 JEAN MIGAULT.
induced her to devote her whole time to the
little sufferer: — it was evidently almost at its
last gasp. It was heart-breaking to turn away
from her dying infant, and not catch its last
sigh, and imprint the latest kiss on its cold
lips and pallid cheek: but the afflicted mother
did not forget that she had eleven other chil-
dren, who claimed a parent's care, and whose
lives she might, under God, be the means of
preserving. She felt it was not in her power
to do any thing to prolong his fleeting life,
which was ebbing fast away. She could only
commit him, with Christian submission, to the
keeping of that gracious Saviour who invites
these little ones to come unto him, and who
has given to the bereaved and mourning
parent the consoling assurance, that there is
place for them in the kingdom of heaven.
With an agonized heart, she forced herself
from her dying babe, confiding him to the ten-
der care of his sympathizing nurse, and has-
tened to the house of M. Champion, the Pro-
testant minister, hoping she might there hear
tidings of her husband. He, on his part, was
ignorant of this second occupation of his house,
until late in the evening; when, returning
JEAN MIGAULT. 77
homeward with the horse which he had gone
a considerable distance to borrow, he was met
by an acquaintance, who warned him not to
approach his house, as the soldiers were there
and searching for him. He dismounted from
the horse, and requesting his informant to
leave it at M. Champion's, he proceeded on
foot, accompanied by his faithful companion,
Dillot, who had resolved to assist them in
their endeavours to escape to the chateau of
Grand Breuil. Favoured by the darkness of
the evening, they stole unobserved to the
house of the nurse. From her, Migault learn-
ed that his wife was just gone from thence to
M. Champion's. He too could only gaze for
a few minutes on his suffering child, and kiss
the dying infant for the last time, ere he has-
tened to join his afflicted wife, at the house of
the minister. The poor babe expired in the
course of the night, but they never looked OR
it again.* They felt the necessity of remov-
* They were not acquainted with its death till four
days after. Judge of their feelings, when they were told
that the cure had done all he could to prevail on the hus-
band of the nurse, (a Papist,) not only to refuse a grave
to the innocent child, but even to throw its lifeless body
7*
78 JEAN MIGAULT.
ing immediately from the neighbourhood.
Dillot and another person went in search of
the children, and returned with the two
eldest, and the little boy who had been ex-
posed to the rage of the soldiers. They set
out with this division of their family, as
speedily as they could, intending to travel
through the night. The mother was mounted
on the borrowed horse, carrying the little
Elizabeth in her arms; and Peter and Mary
were in panniers, placed across the back of
the animal: the two eldest walked with their
father. At midnight, they reached a farm-
house belonging to an acquaintance, where
they rested a few minutes, and then continued
their march, till they reached the chateau of
Grand Breuil.
To this hospitable retreat Dillot subsequent-
ly succeeded in conducting all the children,
to the dogs. Such savage barbarity is scarcely credible •
but when the heart is once resigned to malevolent pas-
sions, it is impossible to say where it will stop. The man
withstood the instances of the cure, and consigned the
body of his little charge to the Protestant minister, by
whom it was interred in the burying-ground belonging to
his church.
JEAN MIGAULT. 79
one after another, and their grandmother; so
that they once more saw themselves assem-
bled under one roof. The soldiers were still
actively engaged, and the reports which the
inmates of the chateau received from the fugi-
tives, dispersed over the country, were not
such as to encourage any attempt to return to
Mougon.
With regard to Migault's private affairs,
speaking of those who had wronged him, by
unjustly detaining his property, he says: "I
forbear to mention their names, for I should
be sorry if my children bore them enmity.
The dishonest detention of my furniture and
apparel added very little to their wealth,
while it added nothing to their happiness. I
freely forgive them. They could not deprive
us of the true riches. We staked our souls
upon God's eternal truth, and felt assured,
that what he has promised he is willing to per-
form. He whose tender mercies are over all
his works, who feeds the ravens, and in whom
every believer may find a supply of all his
wants, did not desert us in our time of need.
When we quitted Mougon, doubtless we were
considered miserable outcasts, with scanty rai-
80 JEAN MIGAULT.
ment, and without the means of procuring
food: yet there was no cold against which we
were not able to guard, and we felt no hunger
which we could not satisfy. Madame de la
Bessiere was no sooner informed that we had
made her chateau our place of refuge, than she
sent the keys, and insisted on our eating her
corn, drinking her wine, and burning her
wood. This exemplary Christian was thus
the means of preserving our lives, with all
their comforts/' Such is the meek and thank-
ful spirit exhibited by the narrator of these
trying scenes in his eventful life.
The persecution continued to rage during
the whole of November; and it was not until
near the close of December that they could,
with any hope of safety, think of returning to
Mougon. There was still danger in doing so;
but they felt the impropriety of trespassing on
the generosity of Madame de la Bessiere any
longer than was absolutely necessary. After
some consideration, they finally decided to
accept an invitation to Mauze, and relinquish
their home at Mougon altogether. They were
induced to take this step by the earnest impor-
tunities of two of their friends, whose sons had
JEAN MIGAULT. 81
been under Migault's care, and who were
again to become his pupils. The plan suc-
ceeded beyond their most sanguine expecta-
tions. No sooner were they established there,
than many of their former boarders, whom
they had been obliged to dismiss, returned to
them, and they had, beside, many applications
from day-scholars. They had now full em-
ployment, and ample earnings for the support
of their family: "and it pleased heaven," the
narrator adds, "to give us the hearts of all the
inhabitants." Thus they once more lifted up
their heads in hope, and went on their way
rejoicing. But another trial, of a different
nature from any of the foregoing, awaited the
reader of Moulle.
Little more than a year had elapsed from
the time of his settling at Mauz6 when his
beloved wife was taken from him by a fever,
after a few days' illness. " On Sunday, the
28th of February/' writes the afflicted hus-
band, "this dear saint resigned her happy
spirit into the hands of her Saviour." He
then expresses his thankfulness for the bless-
ings which were permitted to cheer the clos-
ing scenes of her life, and acknowledges the
82 JEAN MIGAULT.
cause he has for gratitude, when he remem-
bers how peacefully her last days were passed,
as well as for the mercy shown to her, in that
she was taken thus early from the evil to
come. Many trials and afflictions awaited her
surviving family, from which she was spared.
A darker cloud than any they had before ex-
perienced, began now to lower around them.
Migault pursues his history in a mournful
strain: "The renewal of my troubles followed
closely the death of my wife. I never enjoy-
ed a day's peace in France afterwards:"
Only twelve days after this event, a law
was published, prohibiting all Protestant
schoolmasters from receiving boarders at their
houses. Under other circumstances, intelli-
gence like this would have been painfully felt.
It was, in fact, a death blow to Migault's pros-
perity; but his mind was so absorbed by grief
for the heavy loss he had recently sustained,
that he heard of this decree with perfect in-
difference. Guided by the advice of his
friend, the Protestant minister, who kindly
came to counsel him in this difficulty, he
placed his boarders at different hotels, and
waited to receive directions from the parents,
JEAN MIGAULT. 83
as to the plan it was their wish that he should
adopt. In a few days they came to visit their
children, and were so well pleased with his
arrangements, that they requested him to con-
tinue their education in the same manner as if
they were boarders. Other embarrassments
afterwards arose, which served to make his
path thorny and difficult, and must have been
the more painful to him to bear, now that he
could no longer take sweet counsel with her
who had been the sympathizing sharer of his
joys and his sorrows in past years.
She seems, by her firmness of character, to
have been peculiarly fitted to strengthen his
hands in the day of calamity. " She was in-
deed my help-meet upon all occasions," he
says; " but especially while the fiercest perse-
cutions raged around us. < This is grievous
to be borne,' she would say; <yet why should
we sorrow as those without hope? Depend
upon it, the shield of the Almighty is spread
over us, and nothing can happen but what in
mercy is designed for our benefit: though we
perceive it not now, yet we shall hereafter.
We love God, and God will not abandon
84 JEAN MIGAULT.
A few months more elapsed, and the inha-
bitants of Mauze heard the unwelcome tid-
ings, that troops were in full march for the
province of Poitou, destined to complete the
ruin of those Protestant families who had not
fled the country or abjured, during the former
persecution. Nearly every Protestant church,
throughout the kingdom, was now either des-
troyed or interdicted, under various pretexts.
The church of Mauze was for a season
singularly protected from the storm. Her
Serene Highness, the Duchess of Lunenburg
and Zell, herself a pious Protestant, was the
means of shielding this place from the ravages
which laid waste so many other Protestant
districts. Her excellent brother, M. d'Ol-
breuze, resided in the neighbourhood, and
with him and the Protestant minister of
Mauze, M. de la Forest, she kept up a regular
correspondence. Warned by these friends, of
the evils which threatened them from time to
time, she made every effort to avert the blow,
using all her influence with the court of France
for this purpose, and even interceding with
the king himself, on behalf of those whose
cause she so warmly espoused. Mauz6, thus
JEAN MIGAULT. 85
favoured, became the centre of attraction to
the Protestants of Poitou and the neighbour-
ing provinces; a desired haven into which they
crowded, in order that they might enjoy the
public exercise of their religion, denied them
in so many other places. On Saturday even-
ing, the town became crowded to excess. The
private houses of the Protestants, the hotels,
and even the town-hall, were often filled with
persons who flocked in, from various places,
to pass the Sabbath with those of their breth-
ren who were assembled there. But, notwith-
standing the powerful interference of the
duchess, they were visited by many vexatious
and harassing circumstances, against which
they struggled, until the fatal decree of revo-
cation fell on their devoted heads, and left
the Protestants of France without resource.
"Migault had foreseen this stroke, and had
been induced to make every preparation in
his power for the event, by dismissing his
pupils, and sending away his children and
his mother-in-law to the houses of different
friends; so that when the cavalry entered
Mauze, on the 23d ^of September, 1685, he
was without any of his family near him. Two
8
86 JEAN MIGAULT.
or three persons, who were making their
escape from some neighbouring place, were in
conversation with him, when the approach of
the soldiers gave them warning to fly, and
they all left the house as speedily as they
could. Migault and one of the party descend-
ed into the moat which surrounded the town,
(then dry,) and took the road to Amilly, meet-
ing on their way terrified women and helpless
children, who, like themselves, were seeking
safety in flight. Late in the evening, they
reached the chateau de Marsay, where they
were received and sheltered for two days.
From thence they proceeded to the house of
M. de Puyarnault, near St. Jean d'Angely,
where Migault had been kindly allowed to
send three of his children. But here the
fugitives remained only a few days. The
government had begun to station soldiers in
the houses of gentlemen suspected of favour-
ing the flight of the Protestants, and M. de
Puyarnault was daily expecting to have them
quartered on him. He was advised to pre-
pare for their arrival, by removing all valuable
property from under his roof, as no depend-
ence could be placed on persons who usually
JEAN MIGAULT. 87
acted more like freebooters and banditti than
regular troops. Under these circumstances,
Migault felt it prudent to remove his children
from a retreat which no longer promised
safety. Jane, eighteen years of age, and Peter
nine, he could make the companions of his
melancholy march; but what could he do with
Mary, a delicate little girl of seven, who was
unable to encounter the perils of their flight?
He decided, as his only remaining resource,
to send her, by the common carrier, (a Pa-
pist,) to M. de PAleigne's, where she might
be under the care of her grandmother, who
had been received there. Having adopted
this plan, which, perilous as it was, seemed
the only one left him to pursue, he set out
with Jane and Peter, and went first to the
house of M. d'Olbreuze. He did not venture
to remain more than a few hours there, be-
lieving that his presence would endanger the
liyes of four of his children, who were already
sheltered under that friendly roof. Taking
leave of these, he set out again with Jane and
Peter, and the next morning reached the house
of a friend, to whose care he thought they
might safely be confided. Here he left them,
88 JEAN MIGAULT.
and then went forth again to hide his own
head where he could. The whole month of
October he wandered up and down the pro-
vince, concealing himself during the day, and
taking care never to remain more than forty-
eight hours in a place. So completely were
the paths of the Protestants beset with snares,
that it seems wonderful any should have
escaped. The cavalry were spread about
every where; and the hospitable and tender-
hearted among the Catholics, who were
thought likely to receive the persecuted, were
daily subject to domiciliary visits. It was
become very dangerous to give even tempo-
rary shelter to the fugitives, so that their near-
est relatives often scarcely dared to do it. At
length, after a month of painful wanderings,
Migault returned, in the night, to the hospi-
table mansion of M. d'Olbreuze, and for eight
days remained hidden in his grounds. After
this comparatively long rest, he renewed his
lonely wanderings, seeking, from time to time,
temporary rest at the houses of various friends,
where he gained ready admittance, provided
he came by night only, and was careful not to
be seen by any one but the inhabitants of the
JEAN MIGAULT. 89
dwelling. Thus the month of November
passed wearily away; and in the beginning of
December, it appeared necessary to remove
Jane and Peter from the asylum he had found
for them in October. The afflicted father
conducted them, first, to his often-visited place
of refuge, the house of M. d'Olbreuze, where
they lodged one night, and then accompanied
them to the chateau of M. de Marsay, which
had received him in his first flight from
Mauze. In two days, however, these chil-
dren were returned on his hands, at M. d'Ol-
breuze's, to which place he had gone back,
after leaving them at the chateau de Marsay.
Poor man! his heart seems to have been at
this time sinking within him, under the pres-
sure of accumulated sufferings. Indeed, his
situation, as he himself describes it, was truly
pitiable: "Hunted for three months, from
place to place, like a noxious animal, by
cavalry, priests, and lay Papists, at enmity
with me, and agitated the whole time with
distressing anxiety for my poor children."
He was now in the utmost perplexity, not
knowing where to hide his own head, or
90 JEAN MIGAULT.
where to find a place for these two dear mem-
bers of his family.
In this emergency, a Roman Catholic friend
took Jane under his protection for eight days;
and when he durst keep her no longer, he
complied with her father's earnest entreaties,
that he would conduct her to some relatives,
who resided at Croizette, near Niort. Here
she continued a fortnight, and would have
remained longer, had not some person given
information to the captain of a troop of cavalry
in the neighbourhood, that she was concealed
in the house. Two dragoons were instantly
despatched to search for her, which they did
with great insolence, ransacking every place,
destroying furniture, and treating the owners
of the house with violence. The terrified girl
fled at their approach, and concealing herself in
a neighbouring wood, remained there in safety
during the night; but when day dawned, fan-
cying her hiding-place insecure, she stole back
to the court-yard, and concealed herself in a
heap of straw. In the morning the soldiers
renewed their search, and the poor girl was
discovered, and dragged, with brutal harsh-
ness before the Catholic minister of the parish.
JEAN MIGAULT. 91
She had the firmness to withstand all the
menaces and arguments which were used ta
induce her to apostatize from her faith. The
act of abjuration was placed before her to sign,
and violence was added to threats to force her
to comply, but in vain. He who maketh his
strength often appear the most manifest in the
weakest of his creatures, gave this young girl
firmness and energy suited to her trial. She
remained inflexible; and when the priest, who,
was resolved to make it appear that he had
converted her, wrote under the pretended act,
that she did not sign it because she could not
write, she undauntedly protested against the
falsehood, and declared that she knew very
well how to write, but refused to do so because
she was firmly resolved never to renounce her
creed, or sign her name to an act of abjuration.
How she was set at liberty does not appear;
but two days after, a benevolent man had the
kindness to conduct her to her father, at M.
d'Olbreuze's. This good man's house seems,
as Migault observes, to have been their head-
quarters; nor was this the only party that
found refuge there. All who asked, received
aid as long as it was possible to give it. Fugi-
92 JEAN MIGAULT.
lives from different provinces were received
there: they needed but to plead their misery
to gain admittance. It was enough that they
were objects of tyranny and oppression, to
insure them every hospitable attention. Not
only the chateau, but the corn-lofts, barns,
and out-houses, were filled by persons of all
ranks, from Saintonge, Aunix, and Poitou,
who were generously supplied with every
thing necessary to their support and comfort.
M. and Madame de PAleigne manifested the
same courageous and munificent hospitality.
Their mansion became likewise the refuge of
the distressed, and was crowded with Pro-
testants of every age and degree. These bene-
volent persons were threatened with visits
from the military, but they still persevered in
their plans. Their high station, and their
connexion with the Duchess of Brunswick,
preserved them awhile from the threatened
interruption. Of all the residences of the
Protestant nobility in Aunix, Poitou, and
Saintonge, the houses of M. d'Olbreuze and
M. de 1'Aleigne alone remained unpillaged.
At length the blow came, and no obnoxious
person was any longer left unmolested. The
JEAN MIGAULT. 93
nobles friendly to the Protestant cause, were
forced to fly, or risk imprisonment by lettres
du petit-catchet. In November, M. de
PAleigne was consigned, by one of these
instruments, to the common gaol at Loches;
and in December, M. d'Olbreuze was com-
pelled, by a command from the king, to repair
to Paris, and remain in attendance at court,
until further orders. Still Migault and three
of his children were suffered to remain at the
chateau with Madame d'Olbreuze, where they
passed for domestics. But now an order was
issued, forbidding all Protestants to have any
but Roman Catholic servants; and Madame
d'Olbreuze and Madame de PAleigne were
reluctantly obliged to submit to this regula-
tion. Poor Migault knew not where to fly.
In addition to his troubles, Jane was returned
to him from Croizette; John, the second son,
had been driven from his retreat, by the same
decree which rendered it impossible for the
others to remain at Madame d'Olbreuze's, and
the mother-in-law and little Mary had, of
course, been obliged at the same time, to quit
Madame de PAleigne's.
He had now seven of his children unpro-
94 JEAN MIGAULT.
vided for, and himself again without a hiding-
place. He acknowledges, with shame and
self-reproach, the afflicting state of despon-
dency into which he was thrown by these
distressing circumstances. After many diffi-
culties, in seeking such temporary shelter as
he could obtain for those so dear to him, a ray
of hope again dawned upon him, and he
thought he saw means by which he might
send his two sons, John and Philemon, out of
the country, embarking them at Rochelle, for
Holland.
For this purpose, he went to Rochelle.
There he was arrested, taken before the go-
vernor, and after a severe examination, was
drawn into the sinful act of compliance he had
so long withstood, and signed the act of abju-
ration. We know not what arts of refined
cruelty were exercised, to urge this firm and
sincere Protestant into the snare in which so
many had been entangled; for, -at this part of
his narrative, four pages in the original manu-
script are torn out, leaving one of the most
interesting scenes of his life a blank. It only
appears that he signed the formal renunciation
of his faith, and was then set at liberty. But
JEAN MIGAULT. 95
the freedom thus gained was felt to be dearly
earned. Oppressed with the anguish of a
wounded spirit, he went forth to encounter
the ills of life, with feelings such as had never
before weighed down his heart. The state of
his mind, under these circumstances, is best
described in his own words, as he addresses
them to his chidren, commencing with a
prayer to that gracious God, against whom he
had so deeply sinned: "Notwithstanding the
heinousness of our transgressions, thou hast
promised, 0 Heavenly Father, to have mercy
upon us, and abundantly to pardon. I indulge
the humble and confident hope, that thou
despisest not my broken and contrite heart.
Thou wilt thoroughly wash me from my ini-
quity, and cleanse me from my sin.
" Upon leaving the prison, I was conducted
by an officer to the convent of Oratory; and
there it was I basely put my hand to a paper
which they presented for my signature. I
did not read it, but could entertain no doubt
of its purport. The fears for my own safety,
and apprehensions about my family, that agi-
tated my mind, suggested plausible reasons
why I might innocently sign: but no sooner
96 JEAN MIGAULT.
did my guards disappear, and I regain my
liberty, than I despised the sophistry by
which I had been betrayed, and contemplated
my sin in all its blackness and deformity.
One of my friends, whom I met on quitting
the town, observing the distraction of my
mind, persuaded me to accompany him to his
house. He endeavoured to allay the agitation
of my spirits, pointing out those passages of
scripture from which I might derive comfort.
I left him the same afternoon, intending, by
walking all night, to arrive at Mauze, the
next morning.
" I can but faintly describe the shame and
sorrow I endured while at Mauz6. I endea-
voured to pray, but could not give utterance
to the feelings by which I was oppressed. It
pleased God to hide the light of his counte-
nance, and I seemed abandoned to my own
reflections, which had nigh driven me to des-
pair. The congratulations of my friends, on
my release from prison, increased the poig-
nancy of my remorse: their kind expressions
were so many blows upon my heart: they
produced the effect of the keenest reproach^
es; and it appeared to me that no criminal
JEAN MIGAULT. 97
was ever before tormented by so many accu-
sers.
" I could not avoid calling upon Madame
d'Olbreuze, my kind benefactress; but it was
long before I summoned sufficient resolution.
That lady, I knew, received with tenderness
many persons in my unhappy predicament;
yet there was no one of whom this faithful
disciple of Christ entertained a more favoura-
ble opinion, and who had so bitterly disap-
pointed her expectations. At length, I soli-
cited permission to pay my respects, and it
was immediately granted.
" On entering the room, I found Madame
d'Olbreuze surrounded by several unmarried
ladies, who some weeks before had placed
themselves under her protection. Oh! my
children, guard against the first approaches of
sin; and may you never have cause to stand
abashed and confounded in the presence of
your fellow-mortals, in the same manner as
your poor father did upon this distressing
occasion. For a considerable time I was mo-
tionless; my heart beat violently, and I was
happily relieved by a flood of tears. Nothing
could be more kind and considerate than the
9
98 JEAN MIGAULT.
language of this little company of Christians.
They dilated indeed upon the enormity of my
sin, but encouraged me to hope for pardon:
they adduced the instances of Peter who
denied, and of the disciples who abandoned
the Saviour; my repentance appeared as deep
as theirs, and they doubted not my forgiveness
was as complete.
" I hope always to retain a grateful recol-
lection of the behaviour of these ladies. One
of them composed a prayer suited to my case,
a copy of which I have preserved. I distri-
buted this prayer among many Protestants,
who were deploring the same guilt as myself,
and there is reason to believe it was eminently
blessed.
" I was rescued, by the tender mercy of my
God, from the frightful dangers into which
my folly had precipitated me; and was con-
soled for all my sufferings, when I found that
nine of you, my dear children, remained faith-
ful to his word, and appeared devoted to his
service."
After these events, nearly a year seems to
have elapsed, marked by many distressing cir-
cumstances: not the least afflicting, was the
JEAN MIGAULT. 99
bad conduct of John Migault. the second son,
who was a source of great uneasiness to his
father. The rest of his children seem to have
been particularly dutiful, and well conducted.
During this period, Migault had the comfort
of hearing that three of his sons, James,
Gabriel, and Philemon, had been able to fol-
low in the train of families of their friends,
and make their escape from a country where
nothing but sorrow and oppression seemed to
await them. James was at Amsterdam, Ga-
briel and Philemon in Germany; the former
with M. de la Forest, the latter with M. and
Madame d'Olbreuze, who had obtained the
king's permission to quit the kingdom, and
generously offered to take Philemon with
them, and make his welfare their peculiar
care.
John, the sad source of anguish to his father,
had also left the kingdom, and was gone to
the West Indies; and his neglect of his only
parent, to whom he had not once written
since his departure, seemed to weigh heavily
on his father's heart. Still his cares were sen-
sibly lessened, by the knowledge that four of
his children were beyond the reach of perse-
100 JEAN MIGAULT.
cution; and he now began, once more, to
devise plans for removing the rest of his
family to Holland. Towards the close of
1687, after many disappointments,, he found
means to engage a passage for himself and
his children, in a vessel about to sail from
Rochelle. His family, however, was then at
Grand Breuil, where it appears the benevo-
lent Madame de la Bessiere still ventured to
receive them. The perplexity he now had to
encounter, arose from the difficulty there was
in conveying his family to Rochelle without
observation. After hiring one carriage, in
readiness for the nocturnal journey, and pay-
ing the voiturier a high price in advance, the
man failed him, and never made his appear-
ance. After much trouble, he succeeded in
engaging another conveyance, at an enormous
price; and in the middle of a bitterly cold
December night, he commenced his perilous
journey with his children. In quitting Grand
Breuil, they had the affliction of parting from
their excellent grandmother, who though full
of grief at the thought of being separated from
these, the dearest objects on earth, had not
courage, at her age, to emigrate with them, as
JEAN MIGAULT. 101
Migault had earnestly .entreated ;her to do.
After a night of dangers', they reached d'Am-
pierre, where they «Jo,d^d, jThe next uay
they providentially found an asylum at La
Bugaudiere, two miles from Rochelle, in the
house of a remote relative, who, unknown to
them, had removed to that place some time
before. He generously received the youthful
party, and retained them under his protection
till the middle of January, when the wind,
which had been all this time unfavourable,
changed to a good quarter, and the 16th of the
month was fixed as the day of embarkation.
The place appointed for rendezvous, was a
small house on the beach, near the noble man-
sion of Pampin, and a league distant from
Rochelle. Here the captain agreed to take in
the passengers under shelter of the darkness.
It was not without danger and difficulty that
the various parties found their way to the spot
during the night. A few, indeed, lost their
way, and did not arrive till too late; but
seventy-five people were assembled, awaiting
with impatience the moment of embarkation.
The generous-minded man who had been the
principal means of making all these arrange-
9*
102 JEAN MIGAULT.
ments for vhe-pcvor fugitives, came to meet
them, and superintend the midnight embarka-
tion. II? suggested, that they should agree
to enter the boat in rotation, according to the
lot drawn by each family, and then it might
be regularly filled, without being over laden,
and no confusion would arise to embarrass
their movements, or retard their departure.
Hitherto all had gone on favourably. Mi-
gault and Jiis children, with some others,
waited in the house, and the rest of the emi-
grants on the beach, for the arrival of the boat;
when suddenly loud cries were heard. At
first the sounds were thought to proceed from
the sailors, for whose presence they were so
anxious; and then they were filled with con-
sternation, under the apprehension that it was
the military coming down on them. Incredi-
ble as it may appear under such appalling cir-
cumstances, it afterwards proved to be a mere
idle frolic, played off by some who were
waiting to embark. The cries were meant to
imitate soldiers seizing on objects of pursuit;
and the name of the generous superintendent
of the embarkation was repeatedly vocifera-
ted. The penalty of death had, by a recent
JEAN MIGAULT. 103
decree, been fixed as the punishment of those
who aided the escape of the Protestants: this
good man, therefore, might well partake in
the panic which began to spread: hastening
to the house, he exclaimed, " The guards
are on the beach, save yourselves," and then
fled. Some followed him in his flight, but
the greater proportion remained behind; for
the authors of the frolic, seeing the mischief
they had done, hastened to assure, those who
had taken the alarm, that it was unfounded.
They succeeded in quieting the fears of those
around them: but, in the darkness of the
night, it was impossible to trace the steps of
their benefactor and those who had followed
him. In about a quarter of an hour the arri-
val of the boat was announced: every one
hastened to embark; and their kind superin-
tendent not being there to regulate their plans,
the greatest confusion prevailed. Through
the obscurity of the night, Migault and his
party, including a Mademoiselle de Choisy,
whom he had under his care, lost their way,
and did not reach the boat until it was just
putting to sea, with thirty-five persons in it.
The remainder were therefore obliged to wait
104 JEAN MIGAULT.
for another trip. Oppressed with anxiety,
fatigue, and cold, they kept a painful watch,
during the long interval which elapsed before
the boat returned; and when it came, it
brought no hope for Migault's party; for, in-
stead of touching at the same part of the shore
as before, it was taken to a creek, a hundred
and fifty yards distant from the rock on which
they had remained stationed from the time it
went off with the first party. The moment
the cries of the sailors were heard, every per-
son hastened to the spot whence the voices
proceeded. The most active and least encum-
bered, especially those who had none but
themselves to care for, gained the boat first;
and when twenty-five had entered, the mari-
ners pushed off, declaring they would take no
more, as they were nearly swamped by their
load the first time, but they would return a
third time and take the remainder. Alas! it
soon became evident to those now left behind,
that their passage was lost. Day dawned be-
fore the boat could well have reached the ves-
sel, and the dispirited group discerned two
launches belonging to the guard-boats of Ro-
chelle, which had been established since the
JEAN MJGAULT. 105
revocation, to frustrate if possible, all plans for
emigration in that port. The kind friend to
whom the refugees were so much indebted,
had employed persons to inspect a long line
of coast, and observe if any part was left un-
guarded. That part appointed for the place
of embarkation was alone found free; and had
the return of the boat for the second party
been deferred one half hour, that too would
have been blocked up. Thus was a merciful
providence manifested in favour of those who
escaped during that eventful night, from a
land where persecution had left them no rest-
ing-place. How keenly the disappointment
was felt by those who failed in the attempt,
and with what Christian patience it was borne,
Migault's own words will show: " Our situa-
tion," he observes, " was become very awful.
As we saw guards at sea, so we might reason-
ably expect to meet with guards on land. The
trepidation that seized the whole party was
excessive. We knew the unbending severity
of the governor of Rochelle, and many fancied
themselves already in his power. My dan-
ger was, beyond all comparison, the most im-
minent. My companions were unmarried,
106 JEAN MIGAULT.
and could easily disperse, or conceal them-
selves, according to circumstances: but I had
six children, whom I could not abandon, and
three of them incapable of walking. The
house of our benevolent host, at La Bugau-
diere, was the only one I could venture to
enter, and it could be reached only by passing
under the walls of Rochelle. Nor was I by
any means certain that my horse was now in
a condition to travel; the poor animal having
remained the whole of this dreadful night on
the shingles, apparently without sense or mo-
tion. I believe I may say, that at no period
of my life was my faith in more active exer-
cise. Many precious promises presented
themselves to my mind; some of which,
though they then appeared familiar to my
memory, had not before formed the subject of
my contemplation. One passage wonderfully
supported me: ' The angel of the Lord encamp-
eth round about them that fear him, and deliv-
ereth them.' I so meditated on these words,
that my fears were completely overcome. I
shall certainly be delivered I said, and it mat-
ters not therefore, in what way. My Heavenly
Father knows the mode which is best suited to
JEAN MIGAULT. 107
my individual case. Whether I escape from
the hands of the governor of Rochelle, or fall
into his power, I shall be equally delivered in
God's good time. I will not agitate myself
with sinful fears: while- 1 employ every faculty
of body and mind to avoid molestation, I will
cast all my cares upon
* The simplicity with which Migault tells the story of
his life, and makes confession of his errors, is touchingly
exhibited in a little anecdote he introduces at this part of
his history, and on which he comments with equal piety
and good sense.
" I do not wish to pass unnoticed a little anecdote that
you have heard me relate. When we were leaving La
Bugaudiere, little Oliver, in his insinuating and affection-
ate manner, asked : ' Where are we going papa ?' My
heart was full, and to avoid the necessity of any explana-
tion, I said : " We are going to our house at Moulle, my
child.' In the morning, the little fellow finding himself
on the beach, surrounded by the sea and rocks, said:
* Are we in our house, papa ?' ' Yes,' I hastily answered.
* Then our house has tumbled down papa ?' I attach no
other importance to this anecdote than the evil effects
which the untruths I unguardedly uttered might produce
on my children, if I did not solemnly express sorrow for
having departed, upon this occasion, from those rigid and
universal rules of veracity that ought to govern every
head of a family. The world are not generally aware how
imperceptibly the character of a child is formed. The
108 JEAN MIGAULT.
Migault was told, that among those who
had obtained seats in the first boat, was
Madame de Choisy. Mademoiselle de Choisy,
therefore, who had been separated from her
mother during the confusion occasioned by
the false alarm before mentioned, now believ-
ed that they were parted without any hope of
meeting again, and was in a state of the great-
est distress. The good Migault could only
promise to take charge of her, and lend her
what help he could. The mournful party
now turned away from the beach, accompa-
nied by the faithful Dillot, who was always in
attendance on>them, and gave them all the as-
sistance in his power. They were soon met
by a person, who came in search of Made-
moiselle de Choisy. Her mother had not
embarked, but was in vain seeking for her
minute incidents that constitute the history of infancy,
may be pregnant with important consequences on the
future life : and if we could always trace effects to their
causes, I doubt not, it would be found that the moral tur-
pitude of mankind frequently grows out of such aberra-
tions from truth, as in the instance under review, on the
part of parents, whom children have been accustomed to
venerate, and by whose example they have regulated their
own conduct."
JEAN MIGAULT. 109
daughter, and almost distracted with the idea
that, in the confusion, she might have gone on
board and sailed, not only without her mother,
but without any other protector. Nor was this
fear unreasonable; for as the embarkations al-
ways took place in the night, such circumstan-
ces were often occurring. Wives were separa-
ted from husbands, and parents from children,
frequently to meet no more; those who were
left behind too often falling into the hands of
their enemies, and either losing their lives, or
languishing for years in prison.
Migault resigned the charge of this young
lady, and proceeded with his own children to
LaBugaudiere, where they were again hospi-
tably received. They felt very thankful, that
though they had failed to effect their much
desired departure, they had been permitted to
return to their hiding-place without any dis-
covery of their frustrated plans. The whole
party were so happy as to retire from the
place of rendezvous without attracting any
attention.
The next day Migault went to Rochelle,
and found Mademoiselle de Choisy safely
returned to her mother. He records the fol-
10
HO JEAN MIGAULT.
lowing pleasing notice of the evening he pass-
ed at Madame de Choisy's, with several, who,
like himself, had been obliged to return disap-
pointed from the water-side. " We spent a
delightful evening. Of course every one talked
of his own particular adventure. I may safely
assert, that there was not that evening, through-
out France, a happier fire-side. Certainly it
could not have been found in the king's pa-
lace, nor in the houses of those who were
accessary to this horrible persecution. No
one appeared mortified or disappointed; on
the contrary, it was universally felt, that there
was abundant cause for thankfulness and praise.
Every heart seemed turned unto God, as the
heart of one man. We could not, indeed,
deny the dangers incurred, and the sufferings
endured; but the remembrance of them only
increased our gratitude and love to Him to
whom alone we owed our deliverance. The
evening was employed in serious conversation
and fervent prayer. We considered that the
Almighty had given us an earnest of his spe-
cial providence; and feeling that he was on
our side, and that we ought not, therefore, to
fear what man can do unto us, we determined
JEAN MIGAULT. HI
to persevere in our efforts to abandon our
unhappy country. "
Disappointment received in this spirit must
have been a blessing. No affliction " for the
present seemeth joyous, but grievous; never-
theless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable
fruits of righteousness, to them which are
exercised thereby."
It was not until April, that Migault' s un-
wearied endeavours to escape, with his family,
were crowned with success. He then, through
the same kind friend who had assisted him
before, found means to make the needful
arrangements, and once more prepared to de-
part. One child, his beloved and excellent
Jane, he was under- the necessity of leaving
behind, though with a strong confidence that
she would be soon permitted to follow them.
The rest assembled, with him and other emi-
grants, at their former rendezvous, the cha-
teau of Pampin. They had been obliged to
come in two parties, and an intelligent lad
had undertaken to be the guide of Anne
Migault, (the eldest daughter,) and the chil-
dren left under her charge. He conducted
them safely to a place near the house, where
112 JEAN MIGAULT.
they waited till Migault and the rest of the
party arrived. Then, instead of parting from
them, the young guide besought them to allow
him to bear them company to a foreign shore.
" I entreat you, sir," he said, " to take me
along with you. If you will pay my passage,
I shall be no further charge. I have long
been agitated by the desire to escape into any
country, where I may worship God in spirit
and in truth; but I did not dare to inform my
father and mother of the wish. Oh! do, pray
sir, take me with you. It is promised, ' Seek
ye first the kingdom of God and his righte-
ousness, and all other things shall be given.'
Now, sir, I am not afraid but that the Al-
mighty will provide for me, because it is in
search of his kingdom and righteousness I am
going abroad. I wish to sit under the minis-
try of such men as M. Perault"
The earnest entreaties of this poor lad were
not poured into ears unheedful of such plead-
ings; and he was promised, that if the boat
which was to convey them to the vessel was
sufficiently large to admit him in addition, his
wish should be granted.
The whole of the company soon arrived,
JEAN MIGAULT. 113
and in good time effected their embarkation,
without interruption. This happy deliverance
occurred on Easier Monday, 1688; a day of
rejoicing indeed to these poor afflicted people.
Their passage was long and tempestuous; and
it was not until the nineteenth day after they
sailed, that the vessel reached Brille, in Hol-
land. From thence they went to Rotterdam;
and the next day, being Sunday, they all
repaired, with hearts overflowing with grati-
tude, to the French church in that place.
There they united in offering up devout
praises for their deliverance, and listened,
with elevated and solemn feelings, to the word
of instruction, preached by M. Jurieu.
The Wednesday following, they again at-
tended divine service; and after hearing an
appropriate discourse from M. Gilbert, those
among them who had been induced to sign
acts of abjuration, made public confession of
their sin in this matter, in the presence of that
God against whom they had so deeply sinned,
and before the whole church.
Thus was the era of their deliverance fitly
marked, by a spirit of prayer and praise — a
spirit of humble contrition and rejoicing grati-
10*
114 JEAN MIGAULT.
tude, to Him who had delivered them from
going down to the pit, and who had truly
"brought them out of the miry clay," and
" set their feet upon a rock, and put a new
song into their mouth, even praises unto our
God."
In a few weeks Migault was settled at Am-
sterdam. His beloved Jane had joined the
party after a prosperous voyage, and many
favourable circumstances marked his lot. The
good man thus closes his narrative: "I have
now been seventeen months in Holland, sur-
rounded by the major part of my family, and
in the enjoyment of every spiritual blessing.
I might safely add, that every temporal bless-
ing was also vouchsafed to me, if your brother
were reclaimed, and your grandmother under
our roof. Gabriel pursues his vacation with
industry and profit; and the amiable character
of Philemon, has obtained the approbation,
and secured the patronage of M. and Madame
d'Olbreuze. Oh! my beloved children, join
me in endless praises to the gracious Being
who has thus crowned us with loving kind-
ness and tender mercy The love of God is,
you know, generally the theme of our conver-
JEAN MIGAULT. 115
sation, and I wish it to be one of the promi-
nent subjects of my narrative. It is the best
and most important, concerning which the
thoughts of an intellectual creature can be
exercised. Other gifts and graces, whether
intellectual or moral, come indeed from hea-
ven, but they often leave us upon earth. Love
alone elevates us thither, and is able to unite
us to God."
Such are the annals of one persecuted
family. They contain none of those details of
horrible and excessive cruelty, in which the
records of a persecuting age abound: but per-
secution, under its mildest aspect, is sufficiently
revolting. This simple narrative of the suf-
ferings of one individual and his family, which
enables us to trace their steps from day to
day, and to watch the progress of their sor-
rows, will, perhaps, give us a more lively
sense of the troubles of the persecuted, than
many of the more appalling, but less detailed
histories of the times. The original manu-
script of Migault's memoir, was found, a few
years ago, in the possession of a poor inhabi-
tant of Spitalfields, a lineal descendant of the
writer. This man, in the course of conversa-
116 JEAN MIGAULT.
tion with a member of the Spitalfields Bene-
volent Society, happened to mention that his
family had been compelled to emigrate to a
foreign country, by the Revocation of the
Edict of Nantes, and produced this manuscript
as a proof of the correctness of his statement.
A circumstance which has been so often
feigned, to give additional interest to some
fictitious narrative, has, in this case, really
occurred; and a manuscript which had rested
a century in the recesses of the family cabinet,
has been at length brought to light by some
passing event, and presented to the notice of
the public.
117
M. LE FEVRE,
THE PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS.
WE have spoken of the frequent condemnation
of the Protestants to the galleys. This was. a
most afflicting lot, in which much was added
to the usual miseries of captivity. The blas-
phemies of the degraded beings by whom
these good men were surrounded, was far from
being the lightest of the evils they had to
endure. The prophet Ezekiel's magnificent
description of the navy of Tyre, comes before
us in fearful contrast to the horrors of these
galley-fleets, as described by an eye-witness.
(See Appendix, Note 2.) The "benches of
ivory from the isles of Chittim," the " sails of
fine linen with broidered work from Egypt,"
and all the luxurious appointments of Tyre, in
her glory, were not there; but it might be
truly said of them, as of Tyre, in the day of
her calamity: "All they that handle the oar
shall cry bitterly;" — "they shall make them-
118 M. LE FEVRE, THE
selves bald, and gird themselves with sack-
cloth, and weep with bitterness of heart, and
bitter wailing." Ezek. xxvii. 31, &c.
One of the most touching details of the suf-
ferings of those who have been condemned to
the galleys, is to be found in the memoirs
drawn up of the life and death of M. Le Fe-
vre. A counsellor by profession, well con-
nected, and possessed of almost every thing
which could make life pleasant to him, he was
arrested in his thirty-seventh year, on account
of his religion; and bore, for sixteen years,
the hard yoke of a cruel bondage, with unre-
pining submission to the will of God; taking
joyfully his sufferings, and after the manner of
the apostle, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tri-
bulation, continuing instant in prayer." It is
from his letters to various friends that the
materials of this narrative will be chiefly
drawn. It appears that he was born at Chatel
Chinon, in Nivernois, of honourable parents,
and one of the most considerable families in
that province. The pious and affectionate
strain in which he speaks of his departed
parents, interests us in his favour. It is thus
he writes to one of his friends:
PRISONER OP THE GALLEYS. U9
" The great God hath been mindful of his
promises in favour of the children of those
that fear him. My father and mother were of
the number; and having Walked before him in
Christian simplicity, died both in a good old
age, in communion with the true church.
My mother, God took to himself by times;
but I know her piety was exemplary, and her
life edifying. You know what was the pro-
bity, the zeal, and the patience of my deceased
father. I cannot mention him without emo-
tion; but his memory is too dear to me to pass
it over in silence. You visited him on his
death-bed, or rather on his bed of life; and I
remember that, on coming away, you gave
this testimony: 1 1 came to edify and comfort
a sick person, but he has edified and comforted
me/ Such you saw him then, and such he
was through the whole course of his sickness,
which was very long, and very severe. Re-
signed, patient, and always willing to give up
his soul into the hands of his God. He was
naturally hasty and passionate; but the grace
of God raised him so much above himself,
that it made him the most patient man in the
world, in the most intense and violent pains,
120 M. LE FEVRE, THE
I praise God, the God of my fathers, for the
spirit of meekness wherewith he endued his
servant, and for the internal piety with which
he inspired him: and as long as I live, I shall
bless the Lord God of the spirits of all flesh,
who granted me the favour to be present
when he took the soul of his servant to him-
self, and when he put these words into my
mouth, ' Lord Jesus receive his spirit into thy
hands I9 May the blessed Jesus put them
again into my heart and mouth, at the last
moment of my life; and say himself unto my
soul, ' Eater thou into the joy of thy Lord: I
am thy Saviour. ' '
M. Le Fevre, after studying at Geneva and
at Orleans, where he took his degree, repaired
to Paris. The testimonials he brought with
him recommended him to the notice of the
advocate-general, who admitted him as one of
the advocates of the court of parliament. But
scarcely was he entered on a career so favour-
able to his wishes, when the Edict of Nantes
was revoked. He was compelled to seek
safety by flight; but in vain. Arrested and
tried at Besangon, he was condemned to the
galleys. From Besangon he was conducted,
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 121
first, to Dijon, where he arrived May 30,
1686. From the prisons of Dijon he wrote
to a friend, describing the hardships of his
journey to this new house of bondage, and the
sufferings it subsequently occasioned. " I
am/' he says, " as it were, impotent. I suffer
great pains all over my body; and if it had
not been for the comfort that the Lord sent
me at Ausonne, they would not have brought
me alive to Dijon. My irons were taken off
at Ausonne, and I was set on horseback;
whereas I was before in the waggon, in a
distressing posture, and pressed on all sides.
But whatever happens to us, we put our trust
in God; we hope in him only. I have had
some fits of ague, more violent than ever; but
God will not forsake me." He was advised
to present a petition to the intendant, in order
that, if possible, some relief might be obtained
for him, when he should be attached to the
chain, to proceed with other prisoners to the
galley-station. But he declined doing so,
observing, that if he should be favoured more
than others, which he believed would not be
the case, it would be cowardice in him to
shrink back from the burden which others
11
122 M. JLE FEVRE, THE
were bearing. " We do not fear," he said,
" all the preparations they threaten us with,
and which we cannot avoid, without a mira-
cle: we wait for it all. The sight of a passion-
ate deputy, and a troop of inhuman guards,
will be nothing frightful to us. That which
troubles me most, is the blasphemies of the
wicked wretches with whom we shall be
coupled."
We may here observe, that the convicts in
France then, as in the present day, were con-
ducted to their place of destination, not only
manacled and coupled together, as in England,
but beside this, a chain passing through a ring
on the fetters of each prisoner, linked the first
couple to the second, and so on in succession,
thus uniting the whole party, however nume-
rous, and rendering escape on the road impos-
sible: hence the use of the phrase, "the
chain," to express the body of prisoners sent
off to the galleys. M. Le Fevre was detained
about two months at Dijon, and then con-
ducted, with his companions in misery, to
Chalons, where the chain that came from
Paris also arrived about the same time; and to
this was attached the devoted M. de Marolles,
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 123
whose sufferings occupy the next chapter.
He was, at that time, ill with fever; and the
sickness of this good man seems to have been
far more afflicting to M. Le Fevre than his
own sufferings. He writes to a friend: "If
it were not for the sickness of the illustrious
M. de Marolles, which continues still, I would
tell you, my dear friend, nothing but matters
of rejoicing; but my heart is wounded. I
hope, with the assistance of heaven, that the
fever of that servant of the Lord Jesus will
abate by rest."
When they finally arrived at Marseilles,
both de Marolles and Le Fevre were found
unable to work, and were removed to the hos-
pital of the galley; from whence the following
letter, descriptive of their afflictions and their
abounding consolation, under all, was written
by M. Le Fevre, on the 20th of August,
1786.
" It seemed to me as if my flesh was grown
suddenly old. I found myself in the pains of
death: the guard thought me dead, and as such,
one took one thing, and another took another
tffing from me; and had it not been for the
little stop we made at Avignon, I could expect
124 M. LE FEVRE, THE
nothing short of a cruel death. With long
entreaties, M. de St. P suffered me to
take a litter, on paying for the guard. Money
was a great assistance to me*: I have dispersed
it. But wherefore all those cares and expen-
ses, to come to a place that may be called the
abode of misery; where I am mixed with a
very great number of galley-slaves? I have
been forty-eight hours without being able to
eat or drink what they give here, or capable
of closing the eye to sleep. At last, com-
mending my soul to God, in that condition I
saw Mr. J.* coming to me, who told me that
I was recommended to him by his friend G.
After that visit, the fever left me. My life is
not precious to me; I could leave it with
delight, if it were God's will; but the Lord
appears to work miracles to preserve me.
Farewell, my dear: greet the brethren, and
pray for me. They continue controversies
with me, and to speak of my changing my
religion. Plow long, Lord!"
While he was in that hospital, with M. de
Marolles, he was very ill. " I fall," said he,
" from one relapse to another, and have fouTO
* Supposed to be a physician.
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 125
myself at death's door. The physician of the
hospital took great care of me, and he won-
dered to see me not complaining, and ' that
the pains I endured did not make me sigh/
I could not walk these two days, and find
myself very weak; yet do not believe for all
that, that our condition is so unhappy as the
people of the world think it: no, doubtless,
were it only for the testimony of a good con-
science, we are happy; and nothing can take
our joy from us in our sufferings. The Divine
Comforter, who puts us all in heart, comes to
our assistance: sometimes he hides himself,
because we are people of little faith; but God
pities our necessities: he supports us, and
takes us by the hand; and in that state death
is no longer a king of terrors to us. We are
assured by him that loved us, that we shall
receive mercy, and die the death of the right-
eous. What a comfort! What a solid happi-
ness is this!"
In a letter of the 17th of September, 1686,
he says: " They sent me and M. de Marolles
to the galleys, without any regard that we are
languishing and sick. M. de Marolles began
to walk, but /cannot stand. He was declared
126 M. LE FEVRE, THE
invalid, and put into the St. John, so that he
is exempted from rowing; and I expect only
what it shall please God to send me. I went
on board yesterday, where I was immediately
loaded with chains. To all this I oppose the
will of God. If poverty, sickness, pains, and
captivity, are the means he will make use of,
why should I refuse them? I shall die con-
tentedly when it may please God to call me.
In these hard extremes, though God should
slay me, yet will I hope in him, and praise
him all the days of my life. I am reduced to
lie on a board that is but a little more than
two feet wide. I have nothing to cover me;
but the galley-slaves, my neighbours, have
stripped themselves for me: and if the lice
and bugs did not disturb me, I have found
myself disposed for sleep. While I was on
board the Grand Reale, I was entered among
, the rest; for, in the galley, all the slaves are
entered down, from whencesoever they come.
She never goes to sea, nor moves out of the
harbour. When she has many slaves on board,
they are all sorted, from time to time, except
those they have a respect for; and they are
brought into a spacious place, where the inten-
PRISONER OP THE GALLEYS. 127
dant, the commissary-general, and the captains
of the galleys meet; and they make choice of
the lustiest and most vigorous of those that
are ahle to row, and the rest are sent back to
the Grand Reale until further orders. Choice
being made of those that are in health, they
are divided on the armed galleys. Each cap-
tain takes his share. My bad looks were of
use to me: I was not chosen on that occasion.
There was but one captain that put a little
jest upon me; for, turning towards me, he
asked the Sieur Bonvalet which was the advo-
cate, for he wanted one. I answered him with
such a sorrowful and languishing tone, that I
was the advocate, that he turned away from
me."
Before he was removed from the galley to
the dungeon, he found means to send the fol-
lowing letter to his pastor:
" My design was. dear pastor, to give you
an exact relation of what happened to me; but
certain reasons hindered me. I shall tell
you, in short, my condition. I told you
before, that I was watched, and shut up, and
had seen no one. I was then put on board a
galley. I was loaded with irons and chains.
128 M. LE FEVRE, THE
I lay on the boards, though it was very cold.
They hindered me from covering myself.
They railed at me, and lifted up their cudgels
against me. A fever seized me, and all my
body was full of pains. In that condition my
soul, raising itself above visible things, sought
its God, and its only hope. The comforts that
our Lord Jesus Christ gave us increased pro-
portionably to the number of the evils that we
endured for his sake. He encouraged me in
all my fears, and said unto me, ' I am thy sal-
vation." On board one galley, I witnessed
the assistance of men: on board the other, I
experienced the help of God. What shall I
say to you? That holy and divine Spirit -was
himself my comforter. Who else could make
me despise the things I feared most? The
faithfulness of my God is great! He is near
those that wait on him, to support, maintain,
and defend them. He leads us through dark-
ness to his marvellous light; and among the
dread of the galleys, he makes us taste ineffa-
ble delights. I might truly say, (with the
apostle,) ' When I am weak, then am I strong.'
I shall only add, that I am weakness itself. I
have fightings without and fears within. My
PRISONER OP THE GALLEYS. J29
heart is often troubled: my soul trembles, and
finds itself fainting; and if God comforts me,
it is because he is my refuge, and that divers
persons, that are acceptable to him, pray for
my preservation in faith and love. I conjure
you then, by the love you have for me, to
pray without ceasing; and not only for me
alone, but for my dear fellow-sufferers also.
Here are divers witnesses, who preserve their
faith and hope inviolably, and that are resol-
ved to suffer all, yea, death itself, if it please
the Lord, ' for the word of God, and the tes-
timony of Jesus. ? We endeavour to attain
the mark of our high calling. The race is
difficult; the way is rough; but we cast our
eyes on the Lord Jesus, the author and finisher
of our faith. We place all our confidence in
him that raised the dead, and who ' calls the
things that are not, as though they were.9 "
His trials were then only beginning. From
the galley-hospital 'he was removed to a dun-
geon in the Fort St. John, which he describes
as a vault of an irregular figure, which had
formerly been a stable; but, being too damp,
was found unhealthy for horses: it was there-
fore abandoned for that purpose, and consider-
130 M. LE FEVRE, THE
ed a suitable receptacle for such unfortunate
inmates of the galleys as were no longer able
to labour at the oar. The manger and rack
still remained to show its original destination;
and the light was admitted only through a
grating in the door. As he entered this place,
they searched him, and took away the only
books he had been able to retain till that time.
At first, he rested for some nights in the man-
ger, and afterwards, for a month, on a short
and narrow chest, which was rendered yet
more inconvenient by having a seat of straw
placed at each end, so that he could not lie in
an easy posture. Nevertheless, he says he
slept quietly enough; only that the cold some-
times awakened him, as he had no other cover-
ing than the prison-garments they had given
him in the galley. No fire was allowed
him. " This hard entertainment," he observes,
" caused me a defluxion on the teeth, great
pain, rheumatism, and at length continual
fever. But God made use of these means to
wean my heart from the world, and to teach
me to persevere in a faithful resignation to his
will." Though of a tender constitution, his
life seems to have been preserved almost mira-
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 131
culously under so many privations and suffer-
ings. At this period he was not permitted to
see any of his friends; but he still, at times,
found opportunity to communicate with them
by letter, and likewise to hold similar inter-
course with his honoured fellow-sufferer, M.
de Marolles. This was very difficult, as all
who assisted the prisoners in such intercourse
were liable to the severest punishments, and
might even be condemned to death for it. He
was sometimes obliged to keep his letters a
year before he could send them. Though he
still possessed his soul in patience, there were
seasons when he was led to look on death as
his best friend, and to consider that the happi-
ness of his life consisted, in losing it. To a
beloved relative he writes: "Be sensible of
my misery, but be yet more sensible of the
glory and happiness to which that misery
tends. Death is nothing: Jesus Christ hath
conquered it for me; and when the time shall
come, he will give me sufficient strength to
pull off the mask that it wears in great afflic-
tions. The fear of living a long time is
greater than that of dying soon. In the mean
132 M. LE FEVRE, THE
ej it is more honourable to endure the most
wretched life than to desire death."
At times he wrote as if he believed himself
dying; and, under this apprehension, asked
pardon of all those whom he had offended
through weakness, inadvertence, or otherwise;
adding, " I freely forgive those who have of-
fended me in any way whatsoever. No! it is
not likely I can live much longer, unless the
Lord move the hearts of those who give orders
for my sustenance. They try always to weary
out my patience; and there is reason to be-
lieve that the money given for me is not em-
ployed for my relief. I do not know what is
done with it. That which is certain is, that
when I entered into my dungeon, the major
told me that the king would not maintain me,
and that I ought to give orders for my expen-
ses.* I did it, and agreed with a tavern-
keeper for ten-pence a day, which lasted but
three months, because the host that served me
* For this purpose he was permitted to send bills of ex-
change to his relations, drawn by himself; but he was not
allowed to accompany them with a single line of informa-
tion respecting his health or condition in any particular.
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 133
cheated me of provisions; and the major fa-
voured him, though he seemed not to approve
of his conduct when complaint was made to
him. He had also promised that I should be
provided with a matrass and covering, mine
being rotten, and my covering all rags; but
his promise was of no avail. In the mean
time, how great soever my anguish was, I
esteemed it more expedient to suffer life than
to desire death: unless it be desired as St.
Paul did, to live with Christ, to possess the
fulness of that holiness and charity, that is
only to be found in heaven. God will be glo-
rified by my sufferings; the longer they last,
and the more difficult to be supported, the
more glory the Lord will have of them.
They deny me all manner of commerce with
the living, and also with the dead; but the
Lord, who is my God and my deliverer, has
relieved me. He has had pity on my weak-
ness, and given me patience that I never durst
have hoped for. Glory be given to him for
it now and evermore! It is glorious to suffer
for his cause. I do not refuse the honour he
does me on that account; but I entreat him
12
134 M. LE FEVRE, THE
by the bowels of his mercy, to work in me
more powerfully, both to will and to do ac-
cording to his good pleasure."
Years passed away, and Le Fevre was still
the solitary tenant of the dungeon at Marseil-
les. While the companions of his youth and
manhood, and those who had entered with
him on an honourable career, were pursuing
their course, amid the active scenes of life,
surrounded by social and domestic comforts,
he sat alone in his cell, unseen by all, by many
unremembered; but surely not forgotten by
Him " who heareth the prayer of the desti-
tute," and suffereth the sighing of the prisoner
to come up before him.
The trial of the sufferer's faith and patience
was, indeed, prolonged; but still he was sup-
ported under it. His weakness was strength-
ened; his sorrows were mitigated; his spirit
was cheered by the presence of that gracious
Saviour, who saith to his children, " I will
never leave nor forsake you; and none shall
pluck you out of my hand." Of a truth he is
their Lord, and their Shepherd, in every
scene of calamity, as well as in the dark valley
of the shadow of death; and they are enabled
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 135
to say, " I will fear no evil: thy rod and thy
staff they comfort me."
"That field of promise how it flings abroad
It's odour o'er the Christian's thorny road !
The soul, reposing on assured relief,
Feels herself happy amidst all her grief;
Forgets her labour as she toils along,
Weeps tears of joy, and bursts into a song."
Many of those who were dwelling at ease
and in prosperity, but whose hearts were not
right before God, might well have envied Le
Fevre in his afflictions. It is thus he writes to
a relative, in 1695: "I enter into the tenth
year of my sufferings; and by God's grace I
have neither lost faith nor patience, at least
not totally. Ah! my dear kinswoman, the
Lord hath heard your prayer, and those of
the Moseses and Samuels who intercede for
me. If I were but disburdened of sin, and if
1 could disengage myself from the thoughts of
the world, I should be too happy. I should
be incomparably more happy than I was in
the world, though, when I left it, I had almost
all I could desire in it. But I confess, with
grief and confusion, that I am a man of little
faith, and a sinner. I have desired my visi-
136 M. LE FEVRE, THE
ble and temporal liberty with too much fer-
vency. I expect all from the grace of my
God: I hope all from my Saviour, Jesus
Christ, who will subject my flesh to himself,
and who will heal the diseases of my soul.
My comfort is, that this Great Physician has
undertaken my cure, and that he will never
forsake me. He sought me when I did not
seek him, he has engaged me in the defence
of his truth, in spite of my resistance and my
fear. Will he forsake me, then, when I seek
him — when I am afraid of nothing more
than that I should fear something else more
than him? No! because that seeking after
him, that desire, that filial fear are earnests
of his love, and assurances of his protection.
What has he not done, and what does he not
do for me? and where can I find one like him
in heaven or earth? He opens the ear of my
soul, to cause me to hear his voice; and he
takes me by the hand when he seeth me stag-
ger. He raiseth me up when I am fallen: he
supports me, in my weaknesses and defects,
from all the power of those who would devour
me. His design, doubtless, is to lead me into
that city whereof ' glorious things are spo-
PRISONER OF THE GALLEYS. 137
ken.' As for the rest, God is always in my
heart, though he does not always make him-
self to be equally felt there. I shall rest with
confidence, provided he assists me; for, with-
out his assistance, I fall away like water.
God is stronger than all, and no one can take
me out of his hand. The tender care that his
adorable providence has been pleased to take
of me, strengthens me in the midst of my
fears."
After the period at which the above letter
was written, six years more were added to his
captivity; and then his spirit was freed from
every fetter, to enter into the mansion prepa-
red for him, where the oppressor can never
enter.
From the scanty records of his last days,
we find that some alleviations were allowed
him in his extremity. He was permitted the
privilege of sometimes seeing a benevolent
Protestant lady, (Lady Salincroffe,) in the
presence of witnesses. To see and converse
with one who had so much in common with
him, was an unspeakable consolation; though
their intercourse was fettered by the presence
of men who watched the utterance of every
12*
138 M. LE FEVRE.
word. In all her visits Lady Salincroffe found
the sufferer like the first martyr, Stephen, full
of faith and of the Holy Ghost, and all zeal and
charity for his persecutors. She saw him for
the last time, two days before his death. He
then appeared very weak, but in the same
truly Christian frame of spirit.
A Protestant gentleman, writing of this
event, says: " We are sorry we could not col-
lect what he had to say in his sickness. He
is dead: that is to say, he has conquered, by
the grace of God; and there remains nothing
for him but to triumph with his Saviour, and
to possess that kingdom and crown which he
purchased for his confessors and martyrs."
Such are the prison annals of M. Le Fevre.
Are not his sufferings recorded on high?
When the books shall be opened, and the
judgment set, this patient sufferer will assu-
redly be of the number to whom the Judge
shall say, " Come, ye blessed of my Father,
inherit a kingdom prepared for you from the
foundations of the world."
139
M. DE MAROLLES,
THE EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT.
ONE of the many instances in which the Pro-
testants were prevented from obeying the
exhortation of the apostle, " When they per-
secute you in one city flee unto another/'
occurred in the case of M. Louis de Marolles.
He was of an ancient family, and held the
office of king's counsellor, and receiver of con-
signments in the distant province where he
was settled with his wife and four children.
When the Decree of Revocation sounded its
fearful note of warning through the land, M.
de Marolles proposed to escape with his family
to another country. They had nearly reached
the limits of the kingdom, and would soon
have passed the Rhine, and been in safety,
among the Protestants of Germany, when
they were overtaken, arrested, and conveyed
to one of the prisons at Strasbourg, on the 2d
140 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
of December, 1685. His wife and children
were afterwards set at liberty, and allowed to
proceed on their journey; but he was tried,
and condemned to the galleys, by the follow-
ing decree:
" We adjudge, that the said de Marolles is
declared, proved, and convicted of having been
apprehended endeavouring to go out of the
kingdom, with his family, contrary to his
majesty 's edicts and declarations; for repara-
tion whereof, we have condemned, and do
condemn the said de Marolles, prisoner, to
serve the king for ever, on board the galleys;
and his personal goods and chattels forfeited
to the king, by this our judgment and decree."
For this crime of endeavouring to escape
to a country where he might serve his God
according to the dictates of an enlightened
conscience, he was torn from his beloved
family, and condemned to hopeless slavery,
and untold hardships. His health sunk under
his accumulated sufferings, even before he
reached the galley at Marseilles, which was to
be his mournful abiding-place, as long as he
had strength to move the oar; but so debili-
tated was he found to be, that he was speedily
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 141
removed, as disabled, and consigned to a dun-
geon, where the remainder of his days were
passed.
The case of this excellent and respectable
man seems to have excited much sensation,
both at Paris and the places he passed through.
Such scenes, afterwards, became too common
to awaken much interest. " This famous galle-
rien," says his biographer, " whose case had
excited so much emotion in Paris, drew a
great concourse of people at his departure.
Every one seemed touched with the scene;
and an ancient Catholic merchant, breaking
through the throng, came and embraced him,
encouraging him, and offering him his purse.
This man's heart was indeed touched; for he
hath since given glory to God, and retired
with his family to London, there to make pro-
fession of the truth."
His departure for Marseilles did not imme-
diately follow his condemnation. He was
detained many weeks in the prison of Les
Tournelles, where those persons who are con-
demned to the galleys wait, till the whole of
the convicts are ready to set out. During this
142 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
period he wrote the following letter to his
sister-in-law:
" I have been two full months, with seven
miserable wretches, condemned either to the
galleys or to be broken alive on the wheel, in
a dungeon so dark that I could not well dis-
cern their faces. They have all of them been
troubled with rheums and fluxes, which God
has preserved me from, though I am old, and
they are all of them young. The llth of the
month, I was taken out of the dungeon, and
brought to the criminal court to be judged.
The president of the house, who was at the
head of my judges, ordered me to sit down
upon the prisoners' stool, and take my oath to
speak the truth. I answered to all he desired
to know of me; after which, he gave me an
exhortation, and bid me think seriously with
myself, that it was not they that should judge
me, but that the declaration of the king did
especially mention my condemnation. I re-
turned him thanks for his goodness, and told
him that my resolution was fixed long ago
and that I resigned myself to the court, and
was ready to suffer the penalties to which
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS ALIGHT. 143
they might think fit to condemn me; and that,
however great they might be, they would be
less uneasy to me than to act against the light
of my conscience, and live like a hypocrite.
They ordered me, thereupon, to withdraw,
and I was conveyed back to my dungeon. I
expected to be conducted in the afternoon to
Les Tournelles, but they deferred my judg-
ment till the Tuesday following. The 14th
of May, they put manacles on my hands, and
so conducted me in a coach to Les Tournelles.
The governor, knowing who I was, and being
informed of my crime, caused me to be treated
with as much gentleness as can be expected in
that place. They were contented to put a fet-
ter on one foot. But, the next morning, he
came to tell me he had just received orders,
which afflicted him very much; which was,
that the king had commanded that the chain
should be put on my neck. I thanked him
for the kindness he expressed towards me,
and told him that I was ready to pay a res-
pectful obedience to the orders of his majesty.
I laid aside my hat; they took the chain from
off my foot, and put another about my neck,
which doth not, I believe, weigh less than
144 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
thirty pounds. Thus you see, my dear sister,
the state and condition which the wise provi-
dence of God hath chosen and allotted for me,
out of a thousand others in which he might
have placed me. I expect, from his mercy,
strength and constancy, to suffer all for his
glory. Do not afflict yourself at my condi-
tion, my dear sister; it is more happy than
you think. Weep not for me. Keep your
tears for so many miserable wretches who live
not so contentedly as I do. Grant me the
assistance of your prayers. I assure you I do
not forget you in mine."
He remained in this prison till the month of
July was far advanced, and wrote from thence
several letters, and, among them, one to the
celebrated Protestant minister, M. Jurieu.
After alluding to his imprisonment, he ob-
serves: " The satisfaction with which God
enables me to regard my sufferings, confirms
my belief that he will give me grace to con-
tinue faithful to him, even unto death. I am
certain that the light afflictions with which he
is pleased to visit me, will produce in me,
according to his divine promises, an eternal
weight of exceeding great glory. I comfort
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 145
myself, because the sufferings of this present
time are not worthy to be compared with the
future glory which is to be revealed in us. I
rejoice that our Saviour has pronounced those
blessed ' who suffer for righteousness' sake. '
Thus, sir, I make all my happiness and glory
to c'onsist in this, that my Redeemer doth not
count me unworthy to suffer for his name
sake. 1 fix my confidence upon the eternal
Rock. I put all my trust in him. I expect
help and succour from him alone. Fixed
upon so solid a foundation, I persuade myself
that nothing shall be able to move me. This,
sir, is my usual occupation, as much as the
infamous place in which I am confined will
permit. I call it infamous, because there is
not an honest or a virtuous word to be heard
here. It resounds with nothing but filthy
communications and execrable blasphemies.
They make such noise and tumult all day, and
for the greater part of the night, that hereto-
fore I could scarcely find a favourable oppor-
tunity to lift up my heart to God. I was so
overwhelmed with drowsiness, that I often
fell asleep before I had made an end of prayer.
When I awoke, about three or four o'clock in
13
M. DE MAROLLES, THE
the morning, I endeavoured to keep myself
awake, that I might, while the place was free
from noise, pay my homage to God with
some attention. I have had more liberty
these ten or twelve days; for when it is fine
weather, they suffer the chain to go out, and
abide in the court all day, excepting six of us,
who are kept locked up. I spend one part of
this time in reading, meditation, and prayer;
and I likewise take the liberty to sing psalms,
as I have done in all the places of my impri-
sonment, without ever having been complain-
ed of for it. We lie, fifty-three of us, in a
place which is not above thirty feet in length,
and nine in breadth. There lies, at the right
side of me, a sick peasant, with his head at my
feet. There is scarcely one among us who
does not envy the condition of dogs and horses.
This makes us all desire that the chain may
quickly depart. They conceal the time of
departure from us; but, as far as we can judge,
it will take place next Saturday. We were,
yesterday, ninety-five condemned persons; but
two died that day, and one to-day. We have
still fifteen or sixteen sick. I have had five
fits of tertian fever; but I thank God I am
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 147
completely recovered, and fit to undertake the
journey to Marseilles. We shall take in some
of our brethren at Burgogne, who are con-
demned to the chain for the same cause that I
am, who have the honour to be the first con-
demned by the parliament of Paris. "
To another minister he writes: " I can truly
and sincerely say, sir, that the prisons and
dark dungeons, in which I have been confined
for above these six months, and the chain
which I now carry about my neck, have been
so far from shaking the holy resolution which
God has put into my heart, that it has only
strengthened and confirmed it. I have sought
God, in my affliction, in quite a different me-
thod than ever I did in my prosperity; and I
may say, that he has suffered himself to be
found of me. He has very delightfully com-
municated himself to me, by the sweetness of
his consolations. The evils with which I am
threatened do not at all terrify me. If they
are violent, I am not in a condition to bear up
long against them; and so, then, death will
put a happy period thereto. If they are mo-
derate, I shall have reason to bless our God
for it, who will continue his favour and good-
148 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
ness towards me. These considerations make
me look on the future with firmness and
assurance. "
Passing by the details of his melancholy
journey, we will present our readers with
extracts from letters, written on board the
galleys, which exhibit his Christian fortitude
and patience, under his severe trials, and may
well make us blush, who bear our lighter ills
with so different a spirit. His very weak
state of health caused him to be removed,
with M. Le Fevre, to the hospital, by which
his sufferings were greatly mitigated for a
time. From the hospital he writes thus to
his afflicted wife, on the 15th of September:
" The miserable journey which I have made
has taught me what it is to suffer: let us, there-
fore content ourselves, my dear child, since
that is past and gone, and I am in a place of
rest. I live very contentedly, in the company
of M. Le Fevre, who is a famous martyr, and
was an advocate at Chatel Chinon, in Niver-
nois. We are always together; our beds join
one another. Fresh supplies are daily offered
to M. Le Fevre and myself. A banker has
offered us money, if we have occasion for it.
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 149
M. La F. has likewise written to me twice,
to offer me money; but, I thank God, we do
not yet want it. M. P. has my little treasure
in his hand. He has provided me a steward
at the hospital, to buy me whatsoever I want,
who reckons with M. P. for his expenses.
Thus you see, my love, I have nothing else to
do but to pray to God, and be cheerful. Let
this comfort you, and give you reason not to
trouble yourself at my condition; it is render-
ed easy, by the grace of God."
A few days later he wrote to one his of sons:
"It is designed next week, to embark one
hundred and fifty galley-slaves for America.
I was ranked in this number; but one of my
friends told the intendant that I was recovered
from three fits of sickness, which I have had
since my departure from La Tournelle. The
favour which he grants me is, that he reserves
me for a second embarkation, which is to be
made towards the middle of November. The
advantage which I shall gain by this delay is,
that he who spoke to the intendant for me,
has the direction of the vessel in which I shall
make the voyage. Fear not; this is not able
to shake my constancy: God, by his grace,
13*
150 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
has fixed it upon too solid a foundation. It is
no matter to me whether I die by sea or by
land, in Europe or America. I have fully
resigned myself to the will of God. I am
persuaded that all states and conditions in
which it shall please him to place me, are
those states in which he judges I shall glorify
him better than in an infinite number of others
which he might allot me. You must not be
afflicted; this was decreed in heaven before it
was appointed on earth; and we mu^t all be
persuaded that it is for our good God is pleas-
ed so to order it."
In a cheerful letter, addressed to his wife,
he gives a sprightly description of his little
plans for the management of his prison affairs,
and details to her the particulars of his " fine
galley-slave habit." He adds, with touching
simplicity, "My clothes of liberty are not
lost; and if it should please the king to show
me favour, I should have them again. We
have the most honest patron of all the galleys.
He treats me with all manner of civility and
respect. He will put me into what part of
the galley I please ; and he has promised that,
when it is cold, he will let me lie in his cabin.
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 151
Let all these succours, which God affords me,
comfort and rejoice thee. I am already as
used to the place where I am, as if I had been
there all my life time."
He had now been removed from the hospi-
tal back to the galley; but it does not appear
that he was compelled to labour. In the fol-
lowing month, he wrote to his wife, from the
galley La Fiere: " You must not disturb and
disquiet yourself for me. I am at present in
perfect health; but, in order fully to persuade
you that I conceal nothing of my condition
from you, I will give you to understand, that
M. Le Fevre and myself are no longer set
loose from the chain, either by day or night;
and that we are not allowed the liberty of
going on shore, nor suffered to receive letters,
nor to write any which are not seen. Where-
fore, if you do not meet with any more trifles
in mine, by which I have endeavoured to di-
vert thee from thy trouble, be not afflicted,
and do not impute any thing to me on that
account. I have changed my galley thrice in
one week; from La Grande St. Jean, I have
been removed to La Petite, and from thence
to La Grande Royale, whence I was con-
|52 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
ducted, with several other galley-slaves, to the
Pare, a place where they divide them : lastly,
I was put on board an armed galley, which is
called La Fiere."
From this time his sufferings seem to have
increased; but he still endeavoured to give his
friends as favourable an impression of his
situation as he could do, consistently with
truth; speaking but little of his sorrows, and
magnifying his mercies. Finding that some
distressing reports of his condition had reach-
ed his wife, he wrote to her as follows:
" All that of which you have sent me word
is false, except two things; namely, that for
above three months I have been confined to
the chain day and night, and that I have only
been freed from it to be conveyed to the
Bishop of Marseilles.* I assure you, that I
have not as yet received orders from any one,
to employ myself in work. I sat very quietly
in my place, and saw it done, before the short
days; and it is at present done almost every
day, before I am removed from my place.
Praise God, therefore, with me, for this mer-
* He had many interviews with the bishop, who sought
to convert him to the Romish faith by his arguments.
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 153
ciful treatment which he affords me; and be-
seech him, that as long as he shall see fit to
continue my sufferings, my condition may not
become worse. I assure you I have not so
much reason to complain as you imagine; and
the time slips away very quickly. The week
is no sooner begun, than I find myself at
the end of it. When I am up, after having
presented my petitions to God, I read, six,
seven, or eight chapters of Holy Scriptures,
and make such reflections and observations
thereon as I am able. I draw from this di-
vine source all the consolations of which I
stand in need. God himself does most plen-
tifully furnish me with them; and with his
precious balm of Gilead, he gently anoints and
soothes all the wounds which my sufferings
may make in my heart."
In another letter he says: " My paper is
full, and I find I have yet a long story to tell
you. I am lodged in one of the extremities
of the galley, which is called the prow, or
beak, in a little cabin, about seven or eight
feet square. The ceiling is so low that I
cannot stand upright in it. We generally lie
four of us therein; two galleriens and two
154 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
slaves. Twice or thrice a week I commonly
boil the pot, in which is put five quarters of a
pound of mutton. This does not make a full
pound of our country weight. There is very
little beef here, and scarcely any veal. The
other gallerien and I eat together, though I
alone pay for it; but he does me service
enough for it other ways. Bread is dear, but
I sometimes eat of the king's bread. As for
the other food, that which the king allows is a
good half porringer full of beans, dressed in
oil, for the whole day. I eat none of it; so
my usual food is bread, with which I have of
late eaten a few dried raisins, a pound of which
cost me eighteen deniers. The wines here
are so gross that they produce much disease.
I lie upon a galley mattrass, which they call
strapontin. It is made of three or four old
coats. I had it from a gallerien belonging to
the bench, who went off with the first embar-
kation for America. They have lent me a
quilt, which, together with my great-coat,
serve me for a coverlet. I have bought coals,
which are very dear, and I make a little fire
in our apartment. Our officers come to warm
themselves, and talk with me at my fire: I
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS PLIGHT. 155
mean those who have the command of the
galleriens, and I have always received civility
enough from them. The second embarkment
for America is made up, but I believe the
vessel is yet in port. The beginning of last
month, there arrived here a chain of one hun-
dred and fifty men, without reckoning thirty-
three who died by the way. M. Gamier is
one of the number, with a nephew of M. Var-
nier, doctor of physic, and M. Changuinon, of
Vassi, and his brother-in-law, who went by
the name of Chemet. There were seven or
eight Protestants. The above-named four are
in the hospital." The death of the two latter
sufferers, soon after their arrival at Marseilles,
has been recorded in a former chapter.
M. de Marolles goes on to say, that he
beguiles the hours of captivity, by turning his
attention to geometry and algebra, which
were his favourite studies in the days of pros-
perity. He even expresses the pleasure he
has felt in being told that there is a good alge-
braist in Marseilles; and adds, " if that is the
case, we may teach each other something."
Thus did this good man avail himself, with a
thankful heart, of all the alleviations placed
156 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
within his reach; while, at the same time, he
resigned himself wholly to the will of his
Heavenly Father, persuaded that he would
order all things well. How different is this
to the way in which we are, too many of us,
prone to receive our afflictions; crying out,
with Jonah, when our gourds are smitten,
"Take my life from me, I beseech thee; for
it is better for me to die than to live!" or, at
the best, sullenly resigning ourselves to evils,
which we know it is impossible for us to pre-
vent. How unlike this to the spirit of cheer-
ful submission, which kisses the rod, and takes
joyfully the appointed trial; saying, " Shall
we receive good at the hand of God, and shall
we not receive evil ?" " It is the Lord, let
him do what seemeth him good." Does not
the example of this patient sufferer in the gal-
leys of Marseilles, rise up to reprove us, if we
thus u despise the chastening of the Lord, or
faint when we are rebuked of him ?"
In another letter to Madame de Marolles,
he speaks of the comfort he had received,
from the tidings of her safe arrival in the
country to which she had fled with her chil-
dren; observing that he daily pours out his
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS PLIGHT. 157
soul before God, to thank him for all the mer-
cies and favours he has bestowed upon them
all. A little further, after having exhorted
her to offer up their bodies and souls to God,
as a reasonable service, and a living sacrifice,
holy and acceptable, he adds, " This is what
I daily study to do. I can truly tell you, that
there pass but few nights but I water my
couch with my tears. I do not say this, my
beloved, to afflict thee; I do, on the contrary,
imagine that this news may afford thee matter
of joy, and a holy occasion to join with me in
blessing God for it. For these tears are not
the effect of worldly sorrow, which bringeth
forth nothing else but death. They proceed
from the grace of God, and some of them from
that godly sorrow, which bringeth forth a
repentance unto salvation, not to be repented
of: others, from the joy which I feel, when I
consider, with admiration, how great are the
mercies and favours which God hath bestowed
upon you all, and upon myself. I likewise
reflect, with extreme satisfaction, upon the
sacrifice which thou hast offered up to God, of
the goods which he had given to thee and me.
Thou mightest have enjoyed them, if thy
14
158 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
heart had been turned and inclined that way;
but thou hast made thee a treasure of them in
heaven, where rust and thieves spoil not.
Thou hast esteemed the precious liberty of
serving God, of much greater worth than the
riches of this world. Thou hast, like Mary,
chosen the good part, which shall not be taken
from thee* With all the powers and faculties
of my soul, I praise God, who hath given me
a truly Christian wife, who will do her endea-
vours, in my absence, to train up our children
as Christians."
His continued indisposition, and absolute
inability to work, occasioned his removal
from the galley, early in the following year,
to the dungeon where the remaining five years
of his life were passed. Here he was so
strictly guarded that it was not without ex-
treme difficulty he was able to keep up any
intercourse with those beloved beings after
whom his heart yearned. But a way was
foundj from time to time, to exchange letters
with his wife, as well as M. Le Fevre, and
some others of his fellow-sufferers: — and thus
was the long course of his solitary captivity
cheered, as much as earthly solace could cheer;
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS PLIGHT. 159
and what was far, far better for the mourner,
the never failing fountain of everlasting con-
solation was still nigh at hand, and he was
permitted to drink freely of its refreshing
streams. This his own words testify, in let-
ters which he wrote from his dark prison-
house, and which, while they express the
most affectionate and tender feelings for his
afflicted wife, clearly evince that he himself
was lifted above his troubles, by the abundant
grace vouchsafed to him in his extremity.
After gently chiding her for troubling herself
at his condition, to such a degree as to impair
her health, he says: "It is not above two
hours ago that I received a letter, which gives
me more sorrow than joy. I received it when
I was offering up my evening sacrifice to God
on the Sabbath-day. Thou believest that I
hide the condition and place in which I am
from thee; but I have much more reason to
believe that- thou dost conceal thine from me.
That which grieves me most is, that you
make me an occasion of your indisposition.
If it is I that put the sword into your heart,
then do I very innocently stab myself. My
spirit, my beloved, is too deeply engaged to
160 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
thine, not to be sensibly affected with the
evils which thou sufferest Be not disturbed
at this new cross which God lays upon me by
thy means. Do not fear it will injure my
health: I will bear it with the submission
which I owe to my God and Father, who is
full of tenderness and compassion toward me.
Imitate me in that, my dear and well-beloved
widow and not in the many failings which
you have known in me. Love me always
tenderly, as thou hast done; but let this love
be always regulated by divine love; that
which I have for thee is never separated from
it. Although I daily pour out my soul in
praise to God, for the singular favour he hath
done me, in uniting me to so Christian a wife,
yet I have always feared you did not receive
with submission enough, the affliction writh
which it has pleased God to prove us. Let
us imitate Eli, and say with him, in all our
sufferings, ' It is the Lord, let him do what
seemeth him good.' What reason have you
to fear, lest evil should befall me ? Dost thou
question the omnipotence of God? Oughtest
thou to imagine that God will desert me at
last, after so many years miraculous preser-
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 161
vation ? Even though I should lose my life to
preserve my fidelity to my Saviour, remem-
ber he has said, ' Whosoever will save his lif$,
shall lose it; but whosoever will lose his life
for my sake, shall save it.?
" I must now satisfy thy curiosity. I have
many things to tell that I cannot mention
without disguise, and without a borrowed
name. May the Lord, who favours us in so
eminent a manner, grant, if it be his pleasure,
that no inconvenience may happen thereupon.
But I desire of thee, beforehand, that thou
wilt not make it a subject of affliction; but
take occasion thereby to bless the Lord. The
place in which I am, served formerly for a
lodging for soldiers; but, since that, they
have converted it into a dungeon. They
have made so much alteration in it, that there
is not, at present, sufficient light to hinder me
from bruising myself against the walls. After
I had been here three weeks, I was assailed
by so many inconveniences, that I thought I
could not live under them four months to an
end; yet it will be five years, the llth of
next February, that God has preserved me
herein.
162 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
"About the 15th of October, in the first
year, I was afflicted with a painful defluxion,
which fell to the elbow of my right arm, and
shoulder. I could not undress myself. I
spent the night sometimes upon my bed, some-
times walking backwards and forwards, in
my usual darkness. I set myself to reflect
upon the occasion of my disease, and conclud-
ed that it proceeded from the cold and mois-
ture of the winter ; and that, to remedy it, I
must drink my wine unmixed with water,
which I did for two days following. Perceiv-
ing my pains increase, I took the contrary
course, and drank water. Finding mj^self
well after it, I have continued it ever since.
The defluxion I am speaking of continued
near a year. The Lord has tried me with
several other inconveniences, but he has de-
livered me out of them all. I forgot, my love,
to give thee a complete description of my lit-
tle sanctuary; that is ten of my feet in
length and twelve in breadth. I lie upon
one of the hospital quilts, with a straw bed
under it; and, in this respect, I am much bet-
ter than in the galley. This is the fourth
winter that I have spent almost without fire.
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 163
The first of these winters, I had none. The
second, they began to give me some on the
28th of January, and took it away from me
before the end of February. The third, they
gave me some for about fifteen days. This
winter I have seen none. The major might
give me some, if he would, for he has money
of mine. I have sensibly felt cold, nakedness,
and hunger; but all this, I thank God, is passed
and gone. I have lived on five sols a day,
which is the subsistence the king has appoint-
ed me. At first, I was fed by an ordinary,
who treated me very well for my five sols.
But another, who succeeded him, fed me for
five months, and cut me off, daily, three sols
in my food. The major, at length, undertook
to feed me in his turn, which he did at first
very well; but, at length, he left off to do
well. He opens my dungeon but once a day;
and hath caused my dinner, several times, to
be brought at nine, ten, and eleven o'clock at
night; and I did not receive any bread from
him, once, for the space of three days, and at
other times, twice in twenty-four hours. Per-
haps it was by this sparing manner of being
fed, that the sovereign Physician of my body
164 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
and soul preserved my health. Beware, there-
fore, of falling into regret, whereas you ought
to bless God for his merciful conduct towards
me. I have just told you that I have suffered
nakedness. I have heen almost a year with-
out shirts. My clothes are more torn and
ragged than those of the beggars that stand at
the church doors. I have gone barefoot till
the 15th of December: I say barefoot, for
I have had stockings which have no feet, and
a pair of old shoes, unsowed on both sides and
bored through the soles. An intendant, who
came into this city three years ago, and saw
me in this magnificent dress; and though he
promised me much, yet he left me ten months
in this condition, at the end of which, God
raised me up succour which there was no
room to expect. He put it into the heart of
a very charitable and pious person, the almo-
ner of the citadel to visit me. This was no
doubt, done by permission of the king's lieu-
tenant, who is likewise very charitable; and
having seen me in the miserable condition I
was, he went out immediately to fetch me
some of his linen; but I hindered him. But
at length he did so well solicit for me, that he
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 165
procured me a whole galley-slave's suit; and
obliged the major to give me a pair of shoes,
&c., out of my own money. So that, by the
interposition of this good person, I am better
clothed than I have been in all my captivity.
He procured for me also a most notable ad-
vantage, which is, that for this last year and
a half, the king's lieutenant gives me, every
day, a lampful of oil, which affords me light
for six, seven or eight hours. This gives me
an opportunity of reading the Holy Scriptures
more than I did before; for they gave me but a
little candle for a liard a day. I have been
troubled with oppression of the lungs, and
also with giddiness, and have fallen down so
as to hurt my head. The giddiness I impu-
ted to going too long without food. But I am
just now, by the goodness of God, in more
perfect health than for these forty years. I
speak, my dear, sincerely, as in the presence
of God. Within these three months they
have given me three little loaves a day, and
some soup; since which time my head is al-
most settled, and I sleep much better, and
my giddiness is almost over. After the com-
fortable news I tell you, think no more but to
166 M. DE MAROLLES, THE
rejoice at it, and to praise God for it; and la-
bour after thine own health, as that will con-
tribute to mine. This I conjure you in the
name of God; and let not your suspicions
any more trouble the rest and satisfaction I
find in his favour."
A letter, dated on the 24th of March, 1692,
nearly three months before his death, appears
to be the last written by him. From that time
he seems to have declined, more and more, in
health, as far as the secrets of his prison-house
have been disclosed; and, on the 17th of June
following, resigned his spirit into the hands of
his Maker. In the letter to which we have
referred, he repeats his exhortations to his
beloved wife, not to disquiet herself about
him; but to hope always in the goodness of
God, who had delivered him out of so many
troubles, and will still deliver. " God/' he
says, " hath filled my heart with joy. I pos-
sess my soul in patience. Thus he makes the
days of my affliction pass speedily away.
With the bread and water of affliction, with
which he tries me, he affords me continually
delicious repasts."
Such were the notes of thanksgiving that
EXILE ARRESTED IN HIS FLIGHT. 167
issued from the cell of the captive, at the mo-
ment when, worn down by suffering, his steps
were rapidly approaching the borders of the
grave. To such a man, under such circum-
stances, death was, indeed, no king of terrors,
but a welcome messenger of mercy. It came
to him in his low dungeon, where he chanted
the praises of his God, as the angel who visited
Paul and Silas in their bonds, to open the
prison-door, and unloose the fetters the hand
of oppression had fastened on him. But it
needed not for him, as for the apostolic suf-
ferers, that the jailor should have compassion
on him, washing his wounds: they were all
healed. There was henceforth, for him, no
pain, nor sickness, nor sorrow. He who, as
seen in the apocalyptic vision, " holdeth the
seven stars in his hand, and walketh in the
midst of the seven golden candlesticks," hath
before hand pronounced the sentence of such
a devoted and persevering martyr: " Fear none
of those things which thou shalt suffer. Be
thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a
crown of life." — Rev. ii. 10.
168
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE.
THE fatal effects of the Decree of Revoca-
tion did not terminate with the reign of the
monarch under whose sanction it had been
promulgated. After a long career, darkly
clouded at its close, Louis XIV. died, in 1715.
Thirty years of persecution had then passed
over the heads of the Protestants of France,
and they were still left as a prey to the des-
troyer. Many instances of martyrdom occur-
red long after that period, especially in the
southern provinces. One of these appalling
events took place at Toulouse, in 1762. The
circumstances attending it are related by an
eye-witness, in a letter writtea to a friend, a
day or two after the execution. The victims
were men who excited particular interest,
from their character and from their station in
life. They were four in number: M. Rochette,
a devoted young minister, and three young
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 169
men of rank, the Messieurs Grenier, who were
brothers, and particular friends of the clergy-
man. They had all been detained in prison
several months; and, on the 17th of February,
they were tried before the two chambers of
the parliament of Toulouse, and condemned
to death: — the minister to be hung, and the
three brothers to be beheaded. Two days
after, the cruel sentence was executed; and
these men were added to the number of those
who have not counted their lives dear, when
the cause of their Redeemer required the
sacrifice:
" The thousands that, uncheer'd by praise,
Have made one offering of their days,
For truth — for heaven — for freedom's sake,
Resigned, the bitter cup to take,
And silently, in fearless faith,
Bowing their noble souls in death."
" Yesterday," says the writer to whom we
have alluded, " the prisoners were executed.
All the martyrs behaved with invincible con-
stancy and firmness of mind, attended with a
certain cheerfulness and serenity, calculated to
excite the highest admiration. They finished
their days like true saints and Christian heroes.
15
170 THE MARTYRS OP TOULOUSE.
As soon as they heard their sentence read,
they beheld each other steadfastly, and said,
6 Let us then die, since things are so; and let
us pray God to accept the sacrifice of our
lives, that we are now to make, for Him and for
the truth? Upon which, M. Rochette prayed
aloud, in a most pathetic manner. They then
embraced two fellow-prisoners, who were con-
demned to the galleys; and affectionately con-
gratulated another, who had been set at liberty.
In all their conduct, they seemed full of the
Spirit of God. Monsieur Billos, one of the
secretaries, who was present at the first scene
of their trial, never speaks of it without shed-
ding tears. The martyrs were next commit-
ted to the care of the four principal cures,
whom the attorney-general sent to attempt
their conversion. But the expostulations of
these ecclesiastics produced as little effect as
those of the Abbe Couterai, who had been in
prison every day, during three months; and
had been often empowered, by the magistrates,
to offer them their lives and their liberty, on
condition of their embracing the Romish reli-
gion: an offer which they rejected without
hesitation. M. Rochette begged of these
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 171
ecclesiastics, that they would put an end to
their useless importunities, and not continue
to trouble him and his friends in their last
moments, but suffer them to die in peace; ex-
pressing, at the same time, his grateful sense
of their well-meant zeal. One of the cures
threatened him and his companions with dam-
nation: upon which, the worthy minister,
with his usual serenity, replied, ' that they
were going to appear before a more equitable
Judge, who shed his blood for their salvation:
at the same time exhorting his fellow-martyrs
to fortitude and perseverance. When the
curts interrupted him with accusations of
heresy, and with pompous discourses about
the power of granting remission of sins, which
was lodged in the church, he told them that
the Protestant religion acknowledged no such
power, nor looked for the pardon of sins from
any other source but the mercy of God, in
Jesus Christ.
" Being, about two o'clock, delivered from
the importunity of the priests, the pious mar-
tyrs spent these precious moments in prayer
and praise to God, who enabled them to
behold death without terror; and encouraged
172 THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE.
each other to persevere unto the end. So
calm and undisturbed was the state of their
minds, that they did not shed a single tear.
This was not the case with the spectators of
this moving scene: while these good men
thanked the sentinels and keepers of the
prison for the kind treatment they had expe-
rienced from them, and asked pardon if they
had given them any offence, the latter burst
into tears. The minister, perceiving one of
the soldiers weeping more bitterly than the
rest, addressed him thus: 'My good friend,
are you not ready and willing to die for your
king? Why then do you pity me, who am
going to death for God ?'
" The priests returned about one o'clock in
the afternoon, and were entreated to retire,
but to no purpose. One of them said, ' It is
from a concern for your salvation that we come
here/ Upon which, the youngest of the
three brothers replied, < If you were at Ge-
neva, at the point of death from disease, (for
there nobody is put to death on account of
religion,) would you choose to be teazed and
importuned, in your last moments, by four or
five Protestant ministers, under the pretence
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 173
of zeal for your salvation ? Do, therefore, as
you would be done unto.' This mild remon-
strance was insufficient to put an end to the
vain attempts of these blind zealots, who, each
furnished with a crucifix, which they pre-
sented, from time to time, to the prisoners,
continued to perplex them in the most offen-
sive manner.
"< Speak/ said one of the noblemen, < of
Him who died for our sins, and rose again for
our justification, and we will listen to you;
but do not trouble us with your vain super-
stitions/
"About two o'clock, the martyrs were led
out of the prison, and placed in a wagon with
the four cures, and thus they were conducted
to the gate of the cathedral. Here the minis-
ter was desired to step out of the wagon, and
to ask pardon of God, the king, and the law,
in that he had wickedly persevered in per-
forming the functions of his religion, in oppo-
sition to the royal edicts. This he twice
refused to do. He was told that this was no
more than a formality. To which he an-
swered, 'that he neither would acknowledge,
or submit to, any formality that was contrary
15*
174 THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE.
to the dictates of his conscience/ At length,
however, being obliged, by force and violent
treatment, to leave the wagon, he fell on his
knees, and expressed himself thus: ' I humbly
ask of Almighty God the pardon of all my
sins, in the full persuasion of obtaining the
remission of them, through the blood of
Christ. With respect to the king, I have no
pardon to ask of him, having never offended
him. I always honoured and loved him, as
the father of my country. I always have
been to him a good and faithful subject; and,
of this, my judges themselves appeared to be
fully convinced. I always recommended to
my flock, patience, obedience, and submission.
If I have acted in opposition to the laws that
prohibited our religious assemblies, I did this
in obedience to the laws of Him who is the
King of kings. With respect to public jus-
tice, I have nothing to say, but this, that I
never offended it; and I most earnestly pray
that God will vouchsafe to pardon my judges/
" This was the only confession that the offi-
cers of justice, after much importunity, could
obtain from M. Rochette. No such acknow-
ledgment was required of the three noblemen
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 175
who suffered with him, as, by the laws of
France, it is never demanded of such as are
beheaded. They were, however, conducted
with M. Rochette to the place of execution.
The place usually appointed for the execution
of criminals was not chosen upon this occa-
sion; one less spacious was appointed, that
this glorious instance of martyrdom might
have the fewer spectators. All the streets
which led to it were lined with soldiers, and
that on account of the pretended apprehen-
sion of a rescue. But this they could only
fear from the Roman Catholics, (on whom the
shedding, thus deliberately, the blood of the
innocent, seemed to make a living impres-
sion,) for the small number of Protestant
families in this city, filled with consternation
at this unrighteous sentence, had shut them-
selves up in their houses, where they were
wholly employed in sending up their prayers
and lamentations to Heaven, while this terri-
ble scene was transacting.
" In the streets which led to the place of
execution, the windows were hired at very
high prices. Wherever the martyrs passed,
they were attended with the tears and lamen-
176 THE MARTYRS OP TOULOUSE.
tations of the spectators. One would have
thought, by the expressions of sorrow, that
Toulouse was, all on a sudden, become a Pro-
testant city.
" The cure of Faur could not bear the affect-
ing spectacle: yielding to the power of sym-
pathy, and perhaps of conscience, he fainted
away; and one of his vicars was sent to supply
his place.
" The circumstance that was most affecting,
and which made every eye melt with tears,
was the inexpressible serenity that appeared
in the countenance of the clergyman. His
graceful mien, the resignation and fortitude he
evinced, his blooming youth, in short, every
thing in his conduct, character, and appear-
ance, interested all ranks of people in his
favour, and rendered his fate the subject of
universal grief. This grief was augmented
by one particular circumstance; it being gene-
rally known that M. Rochette might have
saved his life by an untruth; but refused to
retain it at so dear a rate. For, as his being a
minister was the crime he stood charged with,
and as there were no complaints made against
him, no advertisements describing his person,
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 177
nor any witness to prove his pastoral character,
he had only to deny his being a minister, and
his life would have been saved. But he chose
rather to lose his life than to deny his pro-
fession.
" He was executed the first of the four: and,
in the face of death, he exhorted his compa-
nions, and sang those sublime verses of the
11 8th Psalm:
' This is the day which the Lord hath made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it.
God is the Lord who hath showed us light :
Bind the sacrifice with cords, even to the horns of the altar.
Thou art my God, and I will praise thee ;
Thou art my God, and I will exalt thee.
O, give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good ;
For his mercy endureth for ever.'
" When the executioner, among others, con-
jured him to die a Roman Catholic, the
minister answered him in this gentle manner:
' Judge, friend, which is the best religion, that
which persecutes, or that which is persecuted/
He added, that his grandfather and one of his
uncles had died for the pure religion of the
gospel, and that he should be the third martyr
of his family.
178 THE MARTYRS OP TOULOUSE.
" Two of the three gentlemen who suffered
with him, beheld him tied to the gibbet with
wonderful intrepidity; but the third covered
his eyes with his hand, that he might not wit-
ness so horrible a spectacle.
" The commissioners of the parliament, and
the deputies of the courts of justice, discover-
ed, by their pensive looks and downcast eyes,
how deeply they were affected on the occa-
sion. The three brothers tenderly embraced
each other, and mutually recommended their
departing souls to the Father of spirits. Their
heads were struck off at three blows. When
the scene was finished, the spectators returned
to their homes in solemn silence, scarcely able
to persuade themselves that the world could
present such a spectacle of magnanimity, and
such an instance of cruelty as they had just
witnessed."
Such is the affecting narrative of the last
scene in the lives of these devoted men, heroes
of the faith, and true soldiers of Christ, who
fainted not in the day of battle. Blessed is
that church, however persecuted, which has
such faithful and devoted ministers; and high-
ly honoured the land, whose nobles are filled
THE MARTYRS OF TOULOUSE. 179
with such a spirit: their record is on high,
though their names may be unknown on earth.
'* The kings of old have shrine and tomb,
In many a minster's haughty gloom ;
And green, along the ocean's side,
The mounds arise where heroes died :
But show me, on thy flowery breast,
Earth, where thy hidden martyrs rest !
The still, sad glory of their name
Hallows no mountain into fame;
No, not a tree the record bears,
Of their deep thoughts and lonely prayers.
So let it be ! like him whose clay
Deep buried by his Maker lay,
They sleep in secret ; but their sod,
Unknown to man, is marked of God."
180
THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
WALDENSES OF THE PIEMONT VALLEYS.
AMONG the sufferers in this cause, were mul-
titudes of the Waldenses, or Vaudois. (See
Appendix, Note 3.) These interesting people
were the descendants of that apostolic church,
planted in the Piemontese Alps, at an early
period of the Christian era, and preserved,
through the dark ages, uncontaminated by the
errors of the church of Rome. She could
not, with any justice, term them pretendu
reforme, for they were not, like other Protes-
tants, dissenters from her communion, who
sought to reform that which had been so
wofully marred by her idolatry and supersti-
tion; they were the remains of a pure, evan-
THE WALDENSES OP PIEMONT. 181
gelical church, which existed long before the
church of Rome was in being.*
Buried in the seclusion of their own remote
valleys, and hemmed in by almost inaccessi-
ble mountains, they were long little known to
the rest of Europe, A lowly and unambitious
race, they lived in almost patriarchal habits of
pastoral simplicity, content to feed their flocks
and herds, and occupy themselves in the hum-
blest callings: yet, ever and anon, a voice was
heard from amid their Alpine recesses, pro-
testing against the enormities of the church of
Rome, and avowing the determination of the
mountaineers to remain firm in the faith which
their ancestors had professed from time imme-
morial.
Their firmness did not fail to bring down
on them the wrath and indignation of the
power they had so courageously opposed.
* " Long before the church of Rome, (that new sect, as
Claude, Bishop of Turin, in 840, called it,) stretched forth
its arms to stifle, in its Antoean embrace, the independent
flocks of the Great Shepherd, the ancestors of the Wal-
denses were worshipping God in the hill countries of Pie-
mont, as their posterity now worship him." — GILLY.—
(See Appendix, Note 4.)
16
182 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
Many edicts were issued, aiming at the over-
throw and complete destruction of the Wal-
denses. So cruel were the persecutions ex-
cited against them, by their enemies of the
Latin church, that it has been forcibly said,
"the lintels of the Vatican were sprinkled
with the blood of the Waldenses." They were
afflicted and oppressed, chased from one re-
treat to another, and harassed by a succession
of tyrannical laws, all intended to trample
them in the dust. But this daughter of the
primitive church, though her head was bowed
down, and she was tossed with tempests, was
not thus to be destroyed by her adversaries.
This " little lamp, kept alive, and shining
through the middle ages," as Gilly beautifully
expresses it, was not to be extinguished by
the blast of persecution. Again and again
were the Waldenses enabled to withstand the
most formidable attacks of their enemies, and
after much suffering, and loss of life and pro-
perty, permitted to come forth, once more,
from their rocky fastnesses, and return to their
homes in the valleys. No less than sixty-
eight severe enactments were put in force
against them, between the years 1561 and
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 183
1686. Extermination was the aim of the op-
pressors, and they did indeed cruelly waste
and destroy life and property; but a little
remnant still remained, which their utmost
efforts could not subdue. "Blind must he
be," observes Mr. Gilly, " who does not dis-
cern the finger of God in the preservation of
the Vaudois. There is nothing like it in the
history of man. The tempest of persecution
has raged against them for seven hundred
years, and yet it has not swept them away;
but there they are, in the land of their fore-
fathers, because the Most High gave unto the
men of the valley stout hearts and a resolute
spirit; because he made them patient of hun-
ger, and thirst, and nakedness, and all manner
of affliction. How could a handful of moun-
taineers escape from the vengeance that threat-
ened their total overthrow, and achieved the
downfall of their brethren in other parts? Be-
cause it was the will of God that they should
be left as a remnant; — because it was written
in the counsels of heaven, that they should
continue a miracle of Divine grace and provi-
dence." Such were the inhabitants of the
hill country of Piemont
184 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
Deep hid within the Alpine vale,
Their flocks Waldensian shepherds fed ;
Or breasting many a stormy gale,
Along the mountain-heights they sped :
Fearless, where all would fear beside,
Scaled the steep cliff, or stemmed the tide ;
Seeking, on high, the eagle's nest,
Or the wild chamois' place of rest.
Men of the valleys — far away,
In sheep-cotes and in vineyards found ;
Though left 'mid savage wilds to stray,
How were your days with blessings crowned!
What joy your lowly spirits filled !
For He whose word the tempest stilled,
Poured peace upon the shepherd's breast,
And gave unto the weary rest.
The erring world in darkness slept,
And bade the light no longer shine ;
But still your fathers' faith ye kept,
And light was on your mountaki shrine,
Still burnt the lamp's undying flame,
Though fierce and fearful tempests came ;
The angel of the Lord was nigh,
Tempering each blast that hurried by.
Sons of the valley — sainted band,
When men to Baal bowed the knee,
Ye 'gainst the mighty made a stand,
Unquailing met the stern decree,
The banner of the cross unfurled,
And bore it 'mid the opposing world
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 185
Faithful among the faithless found ;
Your home a spot of hallowed ground.
Thus, at a period when the fatal influence
of the church of Rome seemed fast spreading
over the whole of Christendom, and the kings
of the earth, drank freely of the cup of her
abominations, there was a simple and obscure
people for whom she mingled her spiced wine
in vain. They turned away from her tempta-
tions to drink the pure water of truth, at that
fountain-head, from whence it had flowed
down to their fathers, from the apostolic age.
Some mournful and desponding servant of
the Lord, who saw himself surrounded by
multitudes, led astray by the pomp and glare
of Roman Catholic worship, and the sophis-
try of her priests, might, perhaps, have been
ready to say with the prophet, " I only am
left of those who follow thee in the faith of
their fathers."
What would have been the joy of such a
one, could he have been transported to these
valleys, and there beheld, in the annual synod
of the Waldensian pastors, a strong evidence
that there were still many who were firm in
their allegiance to a purer faith! How would
16*
186 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
his heart have glowed within him, could he
have united in the prayers of these apostolic
men, and sat among them, while they took
counsel together! These assemblies were
usually held in autumn; but in times of perse-
cution they were deferred till the depth of
winter, in order that the snows, rendering
their retreats almost inaccessible, might se-
cure them from the observation of their watch-
ful enettiies. Here they not only appointed
to their stations those who were to labour in
the seclusion of their native valley, but also
selected those whose office it was to go into
other countries, to visit their brethren, scat-
tered up and down in various lands, who
were unable to obtain pastors from any other
quarter.
It was in the midst of the most imposing
scenes of nature that the Waldensian pastors
met for these holy purposes. In the place of
splendid edifices and the magnificent works of
man, they had the eternal hills around them,
and scenes of grandeur and sublimity beyond
the reach of art. Unmindful of the evils
which surrounded them, and braving persecu-
tion, reproach, and death, they sent out from
OR, THE WALDENSES OP PIEMONT. 187
these synods, messengers whose feet were
" beautiful upon the mountains," to preach the
glad tidings of the Gospel, and publish peace
in distant lands. And these missionaries went
forth to do their Master's work, as sheep
in the midst of wolves, not knowing what
might befall them; but sure that, in all places,
the promise of the Good Shepherd of Israel
would be verified : " Lo, I am with you to
the end of the world. "
Thus was the torch of truth, kindled at the
mountain-altar of the Vaudois, carried into
every part of Europe; and, long before the
light of the Reformation arose, here and there
the rays of this church of the wilderness were
secretly gladdening the dark places of the
earth. When the Reformation burst forth,
like a glorious sun, the scattered beams of this
primitive lamp were scarcely discernible; and
all united in hailing the dawn of that day of
fresh illumination. The light spread; and, by
and by, it was forgotten that, in the midst of
contumely and reproach, the fathers of the
Alpine church had watched by the altar,
through the night of superstition. It was for-
gotten that, while others, like the church of
188 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
Ephesus, had fallen and left their first love,
they had laboured and not fainted, been tried
and found faithful unto death; and therefore
their candlestick was not removed out of its
place. It was forgotten that, in their firm
adherence to the faith of their fathers, they
had left behind them a wonderful and deeply
interesting proof, that a church, uncorrupted
by the errors of papacy, has ever continued to
exist in Europe, from the time the light of
gospel truth first shone upon it. This proof,
the Roman Catholics would gladly take from
us, if they could; but we will not relinquish
that which, more than any other argument,
overthrows their claim to the universality of
their church in past ages. Surely, every Pro-
testant owes a debt to the Vaudois: a debt,
which he who has neither silver nor gold may
repay, by fervent prayer for the still oppressed
and feeble remnant of this church; and which
he who has wealth and influence may dis-
charge, in many ways, by pleading their
cause, and contributing, so far as in him lies,
towards the supply of their necessities, tem-
poral and spiritual.*
* Their countryman, Count del Pozzo, has pleaded their
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 189
" Remember," said the late moderator,
Peyrani, to some English visiters, " Remem-
ber that you are indebted to us for your eman-
cipation from papal thraldom. We led the
way. We stood in the front rank; and
against us the first thunderbolts of Rome were
fulminated. The baying of the blood-hounds
of the inquisition was heard in our valleys,
before you knew its name. They hunted
down some of our ancestors, and pursued
others from glen to glen, and over rock and
mountain, till they obliged them to take refuge
in foreign countries. A few of these wan-
derers penetrated as far as Languedoc; and
from them was derived the Albigenses, or
heretics of Albi. The province of Guienne
afforded shelter to the persecuted Albigenses.
Guienne was then in your possession. From
an English province, our doctrines found
cause in a work entitled, " The complete Emancipation of
the Protestant Vaudois advocated." In this work he
states, that no Protestants now exist in Europe, in so
degraded a condition as the Vaudois.
For a fuller detail of the present depressed state of the
Vaudois, and their many claims on us, see Mr. Gilly's
admirable work, "Waldensian Researches." Published
1831.
190 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
their way into England; and your Wickliffe
preached nothing more than what had been
advanced by the ministers of our valleys, four
hundred years before."
Such are the peculiar claims of the Wal-
denses to our notice.
We have now to turn to a period in their
history, when a war of extermination against
the peaceful inhabitants of the valleys was
resolved on by the great ones of the earth.
Louis XIV. stimulated by those who sway-
ed his counsels, having driven into exile, as
we have seen, many of the most faithful of his
subjects, by the decree of revocation, at length
determined to send the emissaries of persecu-
tion into the valleys of Piemont. The valle}78
of Pragela and Perosa were the more especial
objects of attack. Victor Amadeus, duke of
Savoy, who was their lawful ruler, was stimu-
lated, not to say compelled, to assist in their
destruction. He was, at first, unwilling to
fall into the plans of the king of France. But
when the French minister hinted that his
royal master, if opposed by the duke, would
undertake to carry the measure into effect,
with an army of fourteen thousand men, and
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 191
would afterwards retain the valleys, inhabited
by these heretics, as a recompense for his
trouble, he was afraid to oppose the wishes of
so powerful a neighbour any longer. He
therefore issued an edict, by which the Vau-
dois were commanded, under pain of death, to
raze their churches, conform to the Catholic
faith, and submit their children to the Romish
priests for baptism. Distressed and alarmed
at so cruel a decree, which included a multi-
tude of untold grievances, these poor people
tried, by earnest supplications, to ward off the
blow; and finding such means unavailing, they
prepared to defend themselves by force of
arms. For awhile the men of the valleys
made a successful stand against their adversa-
ries; and after having gained great advanta-
ges, they were prevailed on to lay down their
arms, in the hope that their enemies, having
seen their strength and firmness, might now
be willing to come to terms with them. In
this they were bitterly disappointed. No
sooner had they submitted themselves, than
they saw what cause they had to repent their
ill-founded confidence. Fourteen thousand of
their people were made prisoners; and, of
192 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
these, eleven thousand perished in thirteen
different prisons: only three thousand obtained
their liberty, and these were driven into ban-
ishment, and their property confiscated. How
unjustly they were thus visited by their ru-
lers, appears by the remonstrances they sub-
sequently made to the duke of Savoy, through
his minister, the marquis of Parelle.
" The subjects of the Valley," say they,
" have been in possession of their estates from
time immemorial; having received them, by
inheritance, from their ancestors.
" They have at all times paid the imposts
and subsidies which it has been his royal high-
ness's pleasure to require.
" They have, in all commotions of the
estate, rigidly obeyed his royal highness's
orders.
" At the time when the last persecution was
instituted against his faithful subjects, there
was not one criminal process throughout the
valleys. Each Vaudois was dwelling peace-
ably in his own home, rendering to God the
worship which is his due, and unto Caesar the
things which are Caesar's.
They add, that notwithstanding their fide-
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 193
lity, this people have found themselves, after
much suffering and imprisonment, " scattered
wanderers through the world."
This despoiled and afflicted remnant of a
once numerous people, driven into other coun-
tries, still hovered on the borders of their
native land, anxious to return to the homes
which had been brightened by domestic bless-
ings, to the vineyards they had planted, the
flocks they had fed, and above all, to those
sacred scenes where they and their fathers^had, jr'
served the Lord, in the exercise of that pure
faith, on account of which they were now
driven into exile.
" Your excellency," they say, in addressing
the minister of the duke of Savoy, " will not
deem it strange that we should have Tiad at
heart, a desire to return to our native land.
Alas! the birds, who have no reason, return,
in their season, to their nests and dwelling-
places, nor does any one hinder them; but this
liberty is now refused to men, created in the
image of God/'
The opportunity so ardently desired pre-
sented itself at no distant period. The prince
of Orange, a firm friend to the Vaudois, as the
17
194 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS,'
leader of the Protestant cause, was become,
by the revolution of 1688, king of England;
and a war soon broke out between him and
his Catholic majesty of France. This was
considered very favourable to the Vaudois, by
diverting the attention of Louis XIV. from
their affairs, and giving him full occupation in
matters more nearly affecting the interests of
his own kingdom. They resolved to take
advantage of the want of vigilance which these
circumstances occasioned ; and after many dif-
ficulties, a body of about eight hundred men
set forth, under an able leader, and actually
forced their way through mountain defiles,
over almost inaccessible alps, and in the face
of their enemies, resumed the possession of
those beloved valleys, from which they had
been so unjustly driven two years before.
The story of their trials, under Victor
Amadeus; their perilous adventures, and hair-
breadth escapes; their wonderful exploits, and
almost miraculous preservation, has been
chronicled by their leader, Henri Arnaud.
We refer our readers, for many interesting
particulars, to this narrative, translated by
Hugh Dyke Acland, Esq. and entitled, " The
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 195
glorious Recovery of their Valleys, by the
Vaudois."
There are many things connected with this
daring enterprise which we cannot justify.
While we feel intense interest in the struggles
of this oppressed people, and earnestly desire
their deliverance from the cruel bondage to
which they were subject, we are compelled to
admit that they, too, in these latter days,
exhibit proofs that they have fallen from their
first estate.
In fact, though the Vaudois are still a deep-
ly interesting people, they are not what they
once were. Their light burns more dimly
than it once did. In too many cases their
fruitful field is become a wilderness, on which
the refreshing dews and fertilizing rain no
longer descend, as in other days, when it
blossomed and brought forth fruit in abun-
dance. But are we, therefore, to turn coldly
away from this long-honoured church? No,
rather let us unite in the prayer, that as the
former rain was poured freely on her, so may
the latter rain descend, and make her desert
as the garden of Eden. " Ask ye of the Lord
rain, in the time of the latter rain; so the
196 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
Lord shall make bright clouds, and give them
showers of rain, to every one grass in the
field." Zech. x. 1.
It may be truly said, that the whole of the
country where these poor people dwelt has
been marked by the footsteps of the oppres-
sor; and many a spot still bears record of
harrowing tales of cruelty and desolation. In
the chain of mountains which rises behind the
valley of Pragela, separating it from that of
St. Martin, one lofty and picturesque peak
towers above the rest. It is called the Col
Albergian, or Albergo; and derives its name
from one of those fearful scenes in the Wal-
densian history, to which we cannot turn with-
out horror. Four hundred and thirty-two
years have passed away, since the inhabitants
of that secluded valley saw the solemn rejoic-
ings of the day on which they met to com-
memorate the nativity of their Lord and Savi-
our, broken in upon by an attack from their
relentless adversaries of the Romish church.
Surprised and overwhelmed by numbers, they
were compelled to fly from their dwellings,
and take refuge in caves and mountain-hol-
lows. Ill defended from the severities of the
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 197
season, and scarcely finding even a partial
shelter from the piercing winter-blast, the suf-
ferings of that night can be but imperfectly
imagined. When day dawned, eighty infants,
and many of their mothers, were found dead
among the rocks; and many others so benumb-
ed with cold, that they never recovered the
use of their limbs. When their oppressors
heard the tale of anguish, no compunctious
visitings seem to have been awakened in their
hearts; but, turning the fatal catastrophe into
an unfeeling jest, they called the mountain the
JUbergo, or lodging-house of the heretics.
Truly, the dark places of the earth are full
of cruelty; and the heart is constrained to
inquire, when shall the light be shed abroad
without a cloud? When will the oppressor
cease in the land, and all rest in one fold,
under one Shepherd? Well may we plead for
the hastening of that glorious day ! Well may
we pray, " thy kingdom come!"
If we are asked to what end these records
of other times are presented to the notice of
the youthful reader, we would say, in reply,
that such narratives appear to us to be fraught
with instruction. Perhaps there is no part of
17*
198 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
our literature, with the exception of that
which is especially characterised as sacred,
more valuable than history and biography.
So competent a judge of the matter as Lord
Bacon observes, when speaking of the compa-
rative merits of different kinds of knowledge,
that "history makes men wise.*' But we do
not read it to the purposes of wisdom, if we
gather nothing from it but the barren know-
ledge of facts. Showing, as it does, what man
is, under the varied circumstances of life, and
exhibiting, moreover, the operations of His
hand, who, unseen, directeth the movements
of the world, it is meet that we should dwell
thoughtfully on its pages. Herein we may
often trace undoubted evidence, that although,
for a time, violence and wrath may obtain the
mastery, the Most High does indeed "rule in
the kingdom of men." To our limited views,
man, for a season, may seem to prevail; but
He who formed the earth, seeth "the end
from the beginning, and, from ancient times,
the things that are not yet done." While the
workers of iniquity believe their success is
sure, and confidently cry, " Ah ! ah ! so would
we have it;" a voice they heed not, is saying,
" My counsel shall stand, and I will do all
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 199
my pleasure." " I have spoken it, I will also
bring it to pass; I have purposed it, I will also
doit." "I am God, and there is none else;
I am God, and there is none like me/' Isa.
xlvi. 9, 10, 11.
Not the least important feature in the narra-
tive before us, is the timely and almost mi-
raculous assistance, often afforded to the suf-
ferers in the season of extremity. What
ground does it give for strong confidence and
abiding faith in the Good Shepherd of his
people, who hath thus manifested himself to
be a very present help in trouble! In the
midst of spiritual famine, he feedeth them
with the bread of life, and prepares a table
for them in the presence of their enemies.
Though he may seem to leave them awhile to
stray in the wilderness, through paths they
have not known, yet, in the end, they will
clearly discern, that he has led them " by a
right way, to a city of habitation."
The conduct of many of the subjects of
these memoirs, their patience under persecu-
tion, their faith, and meekness, and charity,
make them ensamples to the flock of Christ,
in every age. Whatever our appointed lot, as
believers, in the present day may be, may we
200 THE CHURCH IN THE WILDERNESS;
partake of the same spirit, and be made wil-
ling, if needs be, like them, to suffer the loss
of all things, so that we may " win Christ, and
be found in him; "counting all things but
loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ Jesus, our Lord."
While the annals of past days lead us to
contemplate the sufferings and privations of
others, may ardent feelings of gratitude be
kindled in our breasts for benefits, which are
now become so common, that we almost forget
they are such as our forefathers would have
considered it a signal mercy to enjoy. The
unrestrained study of the Bible, intercourse
with our fellow-christians, and the unfettered
exercise of religious worship in public and
private, are among the many high privileges
which should daily fill us with thankfulness,
and make this the inquiry of every heart,
" What shall I render unto the Lord for all
his benefits?"
It is but too much the order of the present
day, to talk of our troubles and perplexities;
and they are manifold: but it were surely
right that we should sometimes turn away
from these, and count our blessings. Were
this more our practice, our spirits would
OR, THE WALDENSES OF PIEMONT. 201
oftener be in unison with the Psalmist's; and
we too should be enabled to say, "Return
unto thy rest, 0 my soul! for the Lord hath
dealt bountifully with thee."
Religious persecution is a fearful and dis-
tressing theme, and so many evils are con-
nected with it, that we may well pray to be
preserved from a repetition of its trials. Pain-
ful indeed is the consideration, that such
scenes as we have described, should ever be
exhibited among professing Christians. " How
long, 0 Lord!" must be the cry of every
heart, duly penetrated with this mournful
subject. " When shall all bitterness and
wrath, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put
away, with all malice?" and Christian breth-
ren, " be kind to one another, tender-hearted,
forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's
sake, hath forgiven us?" When shall the
blessed day arrive, when the promises shall
be fulfilled: — "I will turn to the people a pure
language, that they may all call upon the name
of the Lord, to serve him with one consent,"
Zeph. iii. 9. and " I will give them one heart
and one way," Jer. xxxii. 39. "and there shall
be one fold, and one shepherd ." John, x. 16.
APPENDIX.
V
NOTE 1.
The War of the Cevennes.
AFTER suffering deeply from the persecuting spirit
of their powerful enemies for a long period, the
people of the Cevennes were roused to stand up in
their own defence. Their reasons for so doing
are set forth in a paper published by their party,
entitled, "The Manifesto of the Cevennois; show-
ing the true Reasons which have constrained the
Inhabitants of the Cevennes to take up Arms."
This paper was addressed to the Dauphin. After
alluding to the miseries they had endured by per-
secutions of every kind, they proceed to say,
" After they had done us all these mischiefs, the
Edict of Nantes was repealed. In the execution
of the Revocation of this Edict, they demolished
our churches, and banished our ministers out of
the kingdom for ever, continuing to us a thousand
mischiefs, under divers pretexts. All these dread-
ful forms of persecution astonished the Cevennois,
APPENDIX. 203
who had none to comfort them. Fear caused
some of them to hide themselves in woods and
dens ; and others endeavoured to flee out of the
kingdom, that they might set their lives and con-
sciences at liberty, according to the precept of the
gospel ; * if they persecute you in one city, flee
unto another.' But the passages were so well
guarded to hinder the flight of these poor people,
that the greater part of them were taken and sent
to the galleys. They that fled from the city, were
also taken and locked up in prisons, which were
soon filled with these poor persecuted Protestants.
All these cruel usages gave us cause enough to
think of our defence. Nevertheless, we have
borne all these terrible sufferings with patience,
that we might not kindle a civil war in the king-
dom, and shed the blood of our countrymen, in
hope that God would touch the hearts of our ene-
mies, and make them sensible of the injustice of
such inhuman persecutions." They go on to state
that they kept themselves in retirement, withdraw-
ing into woods and mountains, concealing them-
selves in dens and caves, and assembling in num-
bers only for the purposes of worship and religious
instruction; and then unarmed, and with the ut-
most quietness and order. "In these assemblies,"
they say, " we read the word of God, we sung
psalms, and we prayed for the king and the king-
204 APPENDIX.
dom ; nothing could be more just, nor more inno-
cent. But the priests and friars having notice of
it, caused yet more dragoons and other troops to
be sent into the Cevennes, which they placed in
ambuscade, in the places through which those that
were of the assemblies were to pass on their return.
They seized them, and cast them into prison;
condemned some of both sexes to be hanged, and
others to be carried away, the men to the galleys,
the women to the nunneries. And if they happen-
ed to find the place where they were assembled,
they fired upon them without mercy, and without
distinction of sex or age." It was after the occur-
rence of a scene of this sort, that the first rising of
the Protestants in the Cevennes took place, twenty
years subsequent to the commencement of the per-
secution.
We pretend not to justify much that occurred
among the Protestants of the Cevennes, and other
parts of France, at this period of their history.
The details of those events serve to show how
bitter and evil a thing religious persecution is, by
manifesting some of its worst fruits, both in the
oppressors and the oppressed.
The excess of persecution can never be admitted
as a sufficient plea for the deviation of the perse-
cuted from the paths of uprightness. The promise
is, " God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be
APPENDIX. 205
tempted above that ye are able; but will, with the
temptation, also make a way to escape, that ye
may be able to bear it." 1 Cor. x. 13.
Nothing can justify the doing evil that good
may come; nevertheless, the baneful effects of
persecution, furnish a strong reason why the
Christian should guard against the recurrence of
such calamitous events, by exercising a watchful
care over religious privileges and securing their
continuance, as far as human wisdom and foresight,
combined with a thankful and prayerful spirit may
do it.
NOTE 2.
Galley- Slaves.
The circumstances of a gallerien's life,vare more
fully detailed in the following statement of M.
Bion, who appears to have been a chaplain to
some of the galleys, at the time of the persecution,
and afterwards a convert to the Protestant faith :
" A galley is a long, flat, single-decked vessel,
with oars ; and though it has two masts, yet it is
so built as to be unfit to stand against a rough sea;
and therefore the sails are, for the most part, use-
less. There are five slaves to every oar. One of
them is a Turk, who is set at the end to work it
18
206 APPENDIX.
with more strength. There are in all three hun-
dred slaves, and one hundred and fifty men, either
officers, soldiers, seamen, or servants. There is,
at the stern of the galley, a chamber, shaped on
the outside like a cradle, belonging to the captain,
and solely his at night, but in the day-time, com-
mon to the officers and chaplain. All the rest of
the crew, (the under officers excepted, who retire
under shelter elsewhere,) are exposed~above deck,
to the scorching sun by day, and the damps and
inclemencies of the night. There is indeed a can-
vass suspended by a cable, from head to stern,
that affords some little shelter : but the misfortune
is, this is only in fair weather ; in the least gale or
storm it is taken down, for fear of oversetting the
galley.
" In the two winters of 1703 and 1704, on the
coasts of Monaca and Antibes, these poor crea-
tures, after hard rowing, could not enjoy the bene-
fit of the night, which put an end to the labours of
the day, but were exposed to the wind and snow,
and all the inconveniences of the season. The
only comfort they asked for, was the liberty of
smoking; but this was forbidden, on pain of the
bastinado. Instead of a bed, they are allowed only
a board a foot and a half broad ; and those who
have the unfortunate honour of lying near the
APPENDIX. 207
officers, do not presume to stir so much as a hand,
lest their chains should rattle and awake them.
" It is difficult to give an account of the labours
the slaves undergo at sea, especially during a long
campaign. The fatigue of tugging at the oar is
extraordinary. They must rise to draw the stroke,
and fall back again. In all seasons, through the
continual and violent motion of their bodies, the
perspiration trickles down their harassed limbs;
and lest they should fail, as they often do from
faintness, there is a gang-board which runs through
the middle of the ship, on which are posted three
comites, (officers somewhat like a boatswain,)
who, whenever they think an oar does not keep
time with the rest, unmercifully exercise their
power on the man they suspect. The wand with
which they strike being long, it is often felt by
two or three others, innocent even of being sus-
pected.
" To support their strength during the campaign,
every morning each man has his proportion of bis-
cuit, and pretty good ; at ten, a porringer of soup,
made with oil and peas, or beans, the pulse being
often so stale and musty as to be unfit for eating..
I call it soup, according to their phrase, though it
does not deserve the name, sometimes being little
more than water, with a few peas or beans swim-
208 APPENDIX.
ming at top. When on duty they have a pitcher
of wine, about two-thirds of an English pint, morn-
ing and evening.
" When the badness of the weather prevents the
galleys from putting to sea, such slaves as have
trades, work in the galley, or learn to knit coarse
stockings. The comite, for whose profit they
work, pays them about half the usual price, not in
money, but food. The poor men who have no
trades, clean their comrades' clothes, &c. who,
in return, give them some small share of the
scanty pittance they earn by working. One may
easily imagine that such ill-treatment occasions
frequent sickness, and especially with those who,
before they were condemned for their heretical
opinions, never experienced any hardships ; in that
case this is their treatment.
" There is, in the hold, a close, dark room, the
air being admitted only by the scuttle, about two
feet square, which is the only passage to it. At
each end of the room there is a sort of scaffold, on
which the sick are laid promiscuously, without
beds or any thing under them. If this is full, and
there are any more sick, they are stretched all
along the cables; as I saw in 1703, when, being
on the coast of Italy in the winter time, we had
above three score sick men in this horrid place,
dreadfully annoyed with vermin. When the duties
APPENDIX. 209
of my function called me among them, I was soon
covered, it being impossible to preserve myself
from the swarms. I was obliged, notwithstand-
ing* to make considerable stay in this gloomy
abode, to confess such as were ready to expire.
The place was so low, that I was obliged to
stretch myself by their sides, and often when I
was confessing one, another expired just by me.
" There are in the galley several sorts of peo-
ple, under the name of slaves, besides seamen and
soldiers ; viz. Turks, criminals, and Protestants.
The king buys the Turks to manage the stroke of
the oars. They are generally strong men, and the
least unfortunate of the whole crew ; not being
chained, but wearing a ring on their foot, as a
badge of slavery. When they arrive at any port,
they have the liberty to trade ; and some of them
are worth three or four hundred pounds. They
frequently 'send their money to their wives and
children ; and, to the shame of Christians be it
spoken, there is more charity among them than
among many who profess a purer faith. The Pro-
testants now in the galleys have been condemned
thither at several times. The first were put in
after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. The
term fixed for the choice of either abjuring their
religion or leaving the kingdom, was a fortnight,
and that on pain of being condemned to the galleys ;
18*
210 APPENDIX.
but this liberty, by many base artifices, was ren-
dered useless ; for there were often secret orders,
by the contrivance of the clergy, to prevent their
embarking, and to hinder the selling of their sub-
stance. Their debtors were absolved by their con-
fessors, when they denied their debt; and children
were forced from their mothers' arms, in hopes
that the tenderness of the parent might prevail over
the zeal of the Christian. Protestants of all ages
and sexes used to flee through deserts and unfre-
quented ways, committing their lives to the mercy
of the seas, and running innumerable hazards to
escape idolatry or martyrdom. Some happily
escaped, in spite of the vigilance of the dragoons
and bailiffs ; but many fell into their hands, where-
by the prisons were filled with Protestants ; and,
what was barbarous to the last degree, when there,
they were obliged, on pain of the bastinado, to
bow before the host, and to hear mass.
" Monsieur Sabatier, whose charity and zeal
those of the primitive Christians, having a little equal
money, distributed it to his brethren and fellow-
sufferers in the galleys; but the Protestants being
watched more narrowly than the rest, he could not
do it so secretly but he was discovered, and
brought before M. Monniort, intendant of the gal-
leys at Marseilles. Being questioned, he did not
deny the fact. M. Monmort not only promised
APPENDIX. 211
him pardon, but a reward, if he would declare who
it was that had given him the money. M. Saba-
tier modestly replied, that he should be guilty of
ingratitude before God and man, if he should bring
them into trouble, who had been so charitable ;
that his person was at tiieir disposal ; but he de-
sired to be excused as to the secret expected from
him. The intendant replied, he had a way to
make him tell, and that immediately: whereupon
he sent for some Turks, who, at his command,
stripped Sabatier stark naked, and beat him with
ropes' ends and cudgels, during three days, at
sundry times. At last, seeing that he was ready
to expire, he commanded him to a dungeon.
" In the year 1703, several Protestants, out of
Languedoc and the Ce venues, were put on board
our galley. They were narrowly watched; and I
was greatly surprised, on Sunday morning, after
saying mass on the bancasse, (a table placed so
that all the galley may see the priest when he ele-
vates the host,) to hear the comite say, he was
going to give the Hugonots the bastinado, because
they did not kneel, nor show any respect to the
mysteries of the mass. The very name of basti-
nado terrified me ; and I begged the comite to for-
bear till the next Sunday, and that, in the mean
time, I would endeavour to convince them of what
I then thought their duty and my otvn. Accor-
212 APPENDIX.
dingly, I used all the means I could possibly think
of to that effect; sometimes making use of fair
means, giving them victuals, and doing them kind
offices ; sometimes using threats, and representing
the torments that were designed for them if they
persisted : often urging the king's command, and
quoting the passage of St. Paul, that « he who re-
sists the power, resists God.' I had not, even at
that time, any desire to oblige them to do any
thing against their consciences; but what I did
chiefly arose from a motive of pity and tenderness.
I could not but admire, at once, both the modesty
of their answers, and the greatness of their cou-
rage : ' The king,' said they, « is, indeed, master
of our persons, but not of our consciences/ But
at last the dreadful day came, and the comite nar-
rowly observed them, to see the fruit of my labours.
There were only two out of twenty that bowed the
knee to Baal : the rest nobly refused it ; and ac-
cordingly were, by the captain's command, pun-
ished in the following manner.
" In order for punishment, every man's chains
are taken off, and he is stripped naked, and stretch-
ed upon the coursier, (the great gun,) and there so
held that he cannot stir ; during which time a hor-
rid silence reigns throughout the galley. The
victim thus prepared, a Turk is chosen to be the
APPENDIX. 213
executioner, who, with a tough cudgel, or knotty
rope's end, unmercifully strikes the sufferer; and
that too, the more willingly, because he thinks it
is acceptable to Mahomet. But the most barba-
rous of all is, that after the skin is flayed off, the
only balsam applied to their wounds is a mixture
of salt and vinegar; after which, they are thrown
into the hospital I have described. I went thither,
after the execution, and could not refrain from tears
at the sight of so much barbarity. They quickly
perceived it ; and, though scarcely able to speak,
thanked me for the compassion I had expressed,
and the kindness I had always shown them. I
went with the design of administering comfort to
them, but was glad to find they were less moved
than I was myself. It was wonderful to see with
what true Christian patience they bore all their
torments ; in the extremities of their pain, never
expressing any thing like rage, but imploring the
continued assistance of Almighty God."
NOTE 3.
Origin of the term Faudois.
" The terms, Vaudois, in French ; Vallenses, in
Latin; Valdesi or Vallesi, in Italian; and Wai-
214 APPENDIX.
(lenses in English ecclesiastical history, signify
nothing more or less than "men of the valleys;"
and as the valleys of Piemont have had the honour
of producing a race of people, who have remained
true to the faith introduced by the first mission-
aries who preached Christianity in those regions,
the synonyms Vaudois, Valdesi, and Waldenses,
have been adopted as the distinguishing names of
a religious community, faithful to the primitive
creed, and free from the corruptions of the church
of Rome."— Gilly's Waldensian Researches.
NOTE 4.
Jlntiquity of the Moravian Church.
"The Waldenses of Piemont are not to be re-
garded as successors of certain reformers, who
first stood up in France and Italy, at a time
when the corruption of the Roman church and
priesthood became intolerable ; but, as a race of
simple mountaineers, who, from generation to
generation, have continued steadily in the faith
preached to their forefathers, when the territories,
of which these valleys form a part, were first
APPENDIX. 215
christianized. Ample proof will be given as I pro-
ceed."— Waldensian Researches, p. 8.
It would be out of place here to enter into the
detail of these proofs, for which, and much inte-
resting matter beside, we refer the reader to Mr.
Gilly's work.
THE END.
THE INFORMATION CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME
HAS BEEN CHIEFLY DRAWN FROM THE FOLLOW-
ING WORKS.
History of the Edict of Nantes; printed in
French, by authority of the States of Holland, and
translated into English, A. D. 1694.
Voltaire's Siecle de Louis XIV.
Anquetil's Histoire de France.
Eclaircisseraens Historique, sur les Causes de
la Revocation de PEdit de Nantes. Tires des dif-
ferentes Archives du Governement.
History of the Cevennes.
Burnet's History of his own times.
Narrative of the Sufferings of the French Pro-
testants on board the Galleys, after the Revocation
of the Edict of Nantes. By Rev. J. Bion, some-
time Priest in the parish of Ursy, in Burgundy,
arid Chaplain to a Galley in the French Service.
Martin's History of the Sufferings and Martyr-
dom of Louis de Marolles.
L' Histoire apologetique. By one of the exiled
Pastors.
Journal de Jean Migault : ou Malheurs d'une
Famille Protestante, du Poitou, a 1'Epoque de la
Revocation de PEdit de Nantes.
Gilly's Waldensian Researches.
Acland's translation of Arnaud's Glorious Reco-
very of their Valleys, by the Vaudois.
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